Harry Potter And The Forbidden Journey
by The Devil's Warrior
Summary: Harry Potter has no friends; he must face the aftermath of Lord Voldemort's return by himself. His life and skills will be tested. Soon, he will join a secret order to protect the school and wizarding world. New friends and enemies. Old friends will be reunited and magic will be broken. Set in Harry's fifth year. AU.
1. Nightmares

Disclaimer. I don't own Harry Potter just the story. I have updated this chapter due to the many errors and I have corrected what I could see. I hope you enjoy.

* * *

-Chapter One-

-Nightmares-

* * *

Rain pattered endlessly against the window of second floor and smallest bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive. A thunder clap echoed loudly overhead, followed by a streak of brilliant white lightning that illuminated the darkened night sky. There was a growing sound, the sound of the wind, and it was like a ghostly whisper as it rattled against the house.

A bright orange and sickly looking colour flashed against the window when the streetlight flickered. The streetlight shuddered with the wind, rocking back and forth.

It was in that bedroom where Harry Potter lay on his broken bed and panted breathlessly. His scar prickled, he brushed his finger across it and it felt as if Lord Voldemort was screaming in his ear. He slowly managed to bring himself upward, it hurt to breathe and at first, he didn't know where he was.

Then, Harry heard the familiar sound of Hegwig hooting quietly in her cage. That sound was soothing and it managed to calm him, and then Harry allowed his aching muscles to press against the mattress. The rusted bedsprings creaked as he shifted his weight. He knew that he couldn't get to sleep, so he reached over and placed his glasses on and stepped out of the bed.

He stood in front of the hanging mirror and was greeted by a scrawny, bespectacled boy of fifteen. He sighed and looked at the large and dark bags that had appeared underneath his fluttering eyes. The colour on his cheek was illuminated; the orange glow was almost a deathly look.

A soft hooting sound came from the corner of the room and Hedwig's amber coloured eyes looked out at him. They were filled with sadness as another soft hoot escaped from her.

"I can't let you now, Hedwig! I'm sorry!" Harry said and placed his finger inside Hegwig's cage, allowing it to gentle nibble on the edge of his finger. "I'll let you when they all go out tomorrow, okay? Would you like that?"

Hegwig merely hooted in response and nibbled on his finger again.

Harry's eyes fluttered over to a glimmering badge. It spun, becoming a different colour and soon displayed the words Potter Stinks in bright green colours. He grunted, quietly opening the top drawer and flinging it inside.

His hand remained on the handle of the top drawer, and he didn't close the drawer but stared at the framed photograph, it was a photograph of him, Ronald Weasley and Hermione. What happened? Why did they suddenly fall apart?

"Why did Ron and Hermione suddenly stop being friends with me," Harry muttered softly, and a saddened expression appeared on his face. "I have no friends. Why would nobody believe me about what happened at the graveyard?"

For Harry, it was only Professor Dumbledore who believed him and sometimes Harry thought that Professor Dumbledore wasn't actually telling the truth and didn't believe a word that he was saying. Did anyone believe him? Would anyone believe him?

"I wonder what time it is," Harry said to himself, his scar still prickled. "Merlin!"

He stared at the flashing alarm clock and realised that it was only three o'clock in the morning. Harry squinted and began moving back towards his bed.

"It's only three in the morning!" Harry exclaimed and sat on the edge of his bed. "When will I ever get a good night's sleep?"

He sat there and gasped.

"One left," Harry said and shuddered and swallowed the remaining pill. "I just hope it works."

Within seconds, Harry had fallen asleep and rested his head

The sound of the kettle pierced the silence of the kitchen room. Aunt Petunia scuttled around the kitchen, her slippers padded against the sparkling floor. She wore an apron, the apron had "Kiss The Cook!" in big and red letters and there was a pair of kissing lips under it.

"Vernon?" Aunt Petunia said as she walked toward the breakfast table.

"Yes," Uncle Vernon grunted and peered over the top of the newspaper. "What is it, dear? Something you want? Can't you see I'm busy, Petunia?"

Uncle Vernon was an enormous man and his face grew redder when he automatically clenched his hands around the edge of the newspaper. He growled and muttered something.

"Vernon, I think you should go and wake Harry up, he needs to help me cook the breakfast," Aunt Petunia said, glancing at the clock on the oven and nodded her head. "He should've been up at least an hour ago. Get up there and wake him up."

It was a quiet moment until Uncle Vernon growled and flung his newspaper onto the kitchen table. He stood up and hurried out of the kitchen.

"Boy! Uncle Vernon roared from the bottom of the staircase. "What have I told you before? You should be up and helping your aunt with the breakfast. Get it up! Did you not listen to what I just said? I said get up!"

Harry awoke to the sound of Uncle Vernon's enormous fist thumping against the wall of the staircase.

"Jesus Christ! Harry cried as the loud thudding continued. "I'm coming!"

It was quiet for a mere second, then the thudding continued and Harry buried his head back underneath the bedcover.

"Why don't you give me a chance?" Harry called as he stood up and hurried out of his bedroom.

After helping Aunt Petunia make the breakfast, Harry sat next to his cousin with a plate of burnt toast.

"Why were you screaming last? Did Harry have another nightmare? Poor baby!" Dudley Dursley mocked Harry with one of his mischievous grins. "Is little Baby Harry scared of the dark?"

"I bet you wouldn't tell your friends that you were scared of the witch from the Wizard of Oz," Harry said coolly, nibbling on the edge of the toast, it crunched hard in his mouth. "Would you, Dudley? I don't think you would tell them, wouldn't they laugh at you?"

Dudley said nothing and silently chewed his food. His teeth sunk into his soft bread and he smiled sickly at Harry.

"Look at your toast!" Dudley cackled with glee and his large hands were tightly wrapped around his unburnt toast. "Do you think that you will break your teeth on it?"

"What are you doing tonight, Dudley?" Harry whispered and sniggered. "Are you going to beat up another ten year old? Maybe smash up a shop? Or are you going to say to mummy and daddy that you're having supper at one your friend's house?"

"At least I have friends," Dudley said tauntingly as Harry became quiet and never said anything back "Where are your friends? Where are the freaks? I thought that you would've had a place where you would all get to together. Or does nobody love you?

"How can someone be complaining about the coldness in this weather?" Uncle Vernon complained, peering over the top of the newspaper and looked at their old television set. "Look at it outside, and now they're talking about freezing weather, water freezing over. It's a bunch of bull crap!"

"Language, Vernon!" Aunt Petunia said in an exasperating tone, tutting disapprovingly at her husband. "Not in front of Dudley, you wouldn't want up upset his fragile and innocent mind."

Harry scoffed with a mouthful of toast and then swallowed loudly. He laughed a little too loudly, and a sneering smile came onto his face.

"Is there something funny, Boy?" Uncle Vernon asked Harry, his gaze turned onto the boy of fifteen. "Care to enlighten me, Harry?"

"No, Uncle Vernon," Harry automatically said without thinking. "I don't find anything funny. Interesting news, isn't it, Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon flashed a scowl at Harry and then turned his head back to look at the television. He growled, cursing under his breath before snapping his head back to look at Harry.

"It's probably your lot!" Uncle Vernon snarled, and his large moustache wobbled. "Do you know anything about this? Do you know anything about water freezing? Cold weather despite it being the nearly end of summer!"

"No, I don't, Uncle Vernon," Harry immediately said but was silenced by Uncle Vernon's harsh tone.

"I don't believe you," Uncle Vernon said, scowling at Harry. "I know that you know something about this. "What? When are you ever going to listen what I have to say? Do you understand English?

His large and chubby finger pointed at the television. His fingers were like small sausages.

"If I find out that you do know something about this," Uncle Vernon said threateningly and showed Harry the back of his hand. "I'll give you the back of my hand. Do understand what I'm talking about?"

Harry said nothing and merely nodded his head.

"Or it could be any of those friends from school?" Uncle Vernon said and glanced back at the flickering television. "You do have friends, don't you, Harry?"

"I don't have any friends from school," Harry admitted and sighed sadly. "Is that what you wanted to hear? Is that what you've desperately wanted to hear?"

"What about the person who rang up before you started your third year?" Uncle Vernon asked and grinned. "Has he discovered how much of a freak you are? I don't blame him, in fact who would want to be seen with a waste of space like you."

"You tell him, Father!" Dudley said loudly, cackling as he rocked his head back and forth. "He's a huge freak! Nobody loves him!"

Dudley's pig face beamed.

Harry's attention was drawn onto the plate full of chocolate muffin and suddenly his hand reached for it before anyone could say anything. His hands were wrapped around the chocolate mouth; it was so close to his mouth that he could almost taste it.

"Those aren't for you, Harry," Aunt Petunia said, slapping the homemade chocolate muffin out of Harry's hand.

Harry grunted and scowled. The chocolate muffin was taken out of his hand and thrown

"Your dirty hands shouldn't touch it!" Aunt Petunia said frustratingly and threw the muffin into the nearest rubbish bin.

"That's it!" Harry roared and stood up. He pushed his chair underneath the kitchen table. "I'm out of here!"

"Where the hell do you think you're going, Harry?" Uncle Vernon barked when he saw Harry walking away from the kitchen table. "Oi! Did you not listen what I said, Boy?"

Uncle Vernon stood up and followed him out into the passageway. He shouted again, stopping Harry at the door.

"Oi! Listen to me!" Uncle Vernon thundered after Harry. "Where do you think you're going?

"Where do you think I'm going? Out! Where you lot can't bother me anymore?" Harry said, wishing now that he kept his mouth shut. "I don't care if I get punished. Do you remember Mad-Moody, Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon froze and squeaked.

"Are you threatening me, Harry?" Uncle Vernon said and approached Harry with a large smile on his face. "I think it is a foolish move to threaten me, Harry? Do you know what I can do to you?"

"Maybe I am," Harry said, pulling out his wand and immediately stopped Uncle Vernon from walking any further. "What are you going do about it, Uncle Vernon?"

"You can't do magic outside for your school," Uncle Vernon said and a smile lingered on his face. "You can't do magic! You can't do magic! You can't do magic! You can't do magic! Uncle Vernon taunted Harry."

"Who says they haven't changed the rules?" Harry said in a taunting voice, waving his wand around. "I could shoot a spell out of this wand.

"They haven't," Uncle Vernon said but the tone of his voice made him seem that he wasn't convinced in the slightest. "You're lying, Harry. Do you think I'm that stupid? Do you think that we're all stupid? Hmm?

"You really think you have got a brain? Or anyone of you?" Harry sneered and laughed. He waved his wand around and Uncle Vernon slowly took a step back.

"I know that they haven't changed the rules, Harry!" Uncle Vernon snarled and enclosed his hands into tight fists.

"How do you know?" Harry interjected and moved forward. All there Dursley's stepped backed and shrieked. "Why would I waste magic on the likes of you? When there are more

"Foes?" Uncle Vernon bellowed and his family hid behind him. "What foes are you talking about? Hmm? Care to answer that one, Harry?"

"Why should I explain anything to you?" Harry said, grinning as he walked out of the house and slammed the door shut.


	2. A Dementor's Kiss

-Chapter Two

-A Dementor's Kiss-

* * *

It was about eight o'clock in the morning and the hottest day of the summer had finally started, bringing a drowsy silence over Privet Drive and Magnolia Crescent. Privet Drive and Magnolia Crescent had square houses that were similar to one another. The rising sun was also there, slowly rising above Little Whinging and the grass was an sparking emerald colour, and vehicles were idling motionlessly, windows were glowing and dusty.

The ground was cracked and baked with hot and clumps of rock-hard mud scattered across the ground. Young children giggled, ran and splashed each other with water from buckets. Their high shrills soon filled the morning sky, and they wore shorts and were topless due to the sun beating down onto him.

A thick layer of dust was caked onto the bonnet of one of the vehicles and it looked like it hadn't been cleaned in a month or so. The leather seats were baked and hot.

The sound of footsteps suddenly grew out of nowhere as Harry endlessly pounded down the deserted street. He grunted, for most of the summer holidays he had found himself pacing these familiar streets when he wasn't sleep or locked in his room. Harry hurried, and soon his footsteps grew louder and louder as he passed a dented sign that said "Crescent Square" He had passed it so many times, that he had lost count quite quickly. How many times would he walk past it again? Would it be another hundred? Or would it be a thousand?

Harry couldn't wait until he started his fifth year at Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry, despite not being liked by anyone. His _friends _had forgotten about him, in fact they weren't hardly classed a real friends anymore. He was alone, alone in a cruel, harsh world that had jagged teeth and would swallow you whole without even stopping to think. Would he ever find friends again? Would someone ever befriend him and see past the scar?

Who would love or like someonelike him? Harry thought to himself, his rage was channelled into his pounding feet. His eyes were blinded by the sunlight when he looked up to the clear skies and didn't see a white or dark cloud in sight. It was just blue, and the sky was so lonely, not a cloud, plane or even a bird fluttering across the cloudless sky above him.

Harry was never a comfortable or a relaxed person, and it was his feet that pained him the most. He had always been a skinny, jet black-haired boy who had the unhealthy look of someone who hadn't a decent meal or shower in a long time. He had to snort at that. It was certainly true. His jeans were always faded and dirty, and the jumper was worn and dull, and it baggy and too big for him. It was Dudley's old jumper, and Dudley was far bigger than Harry's skinny frame. His trainers were peeling away from the soles, and Harry's appearance was something that people thought was a crime against nature.

The wizard sharply turned around the corner and carried on walking; he didn't know where he was going to but anywhere was better than being at the Dursley's home. What would happen when he got back there? Would he face another beating? Would he be locked in the cupboard underneath the stairs?

He stopped when he heard a dog barking. Could it be? Was it_ him_? Had he returned? A smile came onto his face when he realised what he was looking at. It was an enormous black dog, an ungroomed dog with no collar or tag. Was it Sirius? Was it his godfather? Was it the man that he saved from Dementors? Was it the man that him and Hermione Granger had recused from the Dark Tower with the help from Buckbeak.

"Padfoot!" Harry cried when he looked at the familiar black dog. "Is that you?"

The dog stayed there and didn't move toward Harry. It stood there and stared at him with those big, black and gleaming eyes.

"Sirius? Is that you, Sirius?" Harry asked the black and scruffy looking dog. "Is that you? Have you come to rescue me? Please!

The black dog whimpered and did nothing. It flopped onto the ground, rolled over and wagged its tail excitingly; its tongue came out of his mouth and wagged as well.

"You're not Sirius, are you?" Harry said with a hint of sadness, his voice cracked as he continued walk away.

* * *

About a half hour later after seeing the mistaken dog, Harry was walking down Wisteria Walk, where Miss Figg and where Lisa Smith lived. It was another empty looking street, and the only noise came from the rustling inside of the corner shop at the end of the street. But suddenly a loud, echoing crack broke the drowsy silence it was a like a deafening gunshot. A cat hissed and shot out from under one of the parked cars, fleeing into the darkened alleyway. A dog barked and howled loudly, and there was a sound of a man shouting from inside the corner store.

Harry had been waiting all summer for something to happen and something had finally happened. What was it? Was it a Death Eater? Was it Lord Voldemort himself? He swallowed hard and slowly reached for his wand, pulling it out of his waistband. It was a thin wooden wand and pulled in the same way that a knight would do with a sword.

He glanced around and saw nothing.

"Must've been nothing," Harry said, stuffing his wand back into the waistband of his fading jeans. He glanced around, and was pleased that nobody had seen him. "Must've been a car backfiring. Merlin! I nearly died of a heart attack."

The street was nearly empty, apart from an elderly woman with a walking stick. Harry squinted and thought that he had recognised her. Was she a witch? Harry shook his head when she walked down a side street and disappeared.

The corner store door suddenly burst open and a frazzled middle-aged Asian man came out. His eyebrows knitted together when he saw Harry Potter standing in the middle of the street.

"What do you think you're doing, boy? Why would you make a racket like that, Mr. Potter? What would your aunt and Uncle think?"

Would they even be bothered, Mr. Chopra? Harry thought to himself and stiffened.

"I didn't do anything, Mr. Chopra!" Harry protested but felt himself losing a battle with everyone he came across. "How could be I make that noise? What would I make the noise? Have I got a gun or a car?"

"You probably just did, Mr. Potter. Mr and Mrs. Dursley always tell me what kind of boy you are. Disgusting! You're attending St. Brutus Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys!" Mr. Chopra thundered and walked back into the corner store.

"That's what you think," Harry added silently before walking away.

Harry had always liked Little Whinging at night and knew that many people had retreated into their welcoming home. He snorted at that, Harry didn't have a welcoming home and the only true home he had was Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore was avoiding him, and hadn't replied to his letters. He sent them when quietly let Hedwig to be free. Why was Professor Dumbledore avoiding him? What was wrong him? Was it because of Lord Voldemort?

He let out a snarl when his scar prickled for at least the fourth or fifth time in less than an hour. What was Lord Voldemort planning? Who had died? Who had been kidnapped? How many Muggles or Half-bloods had been killed? Harry had been raking through rubbish bins and picking up old newspapers to try and find some news. Would he find any? Would there be anything worth looking?

He had been walking around for nearly all the day and only stopped to have a small rest. Harry wasn't exhausted, angry but just wanted to be at peace. He walked down the side cobbled side street, his footsteps echoed against the ground until he left the side street.

He stopped at the end of the road and glanced around. This place, everything was so familiar, after all, he had walked around Little Whinging. Slowly, he gazed into the night sky when something caught his eye. At first, he thought there was something black gliding around in the sky. Was it a Dementor? Or was it just his mind playing tricks on him again?

"Dementors?" Harry croaked and looked up to the evening sky, his eyes blinked and then figure disappeared.

He muttered and swore under his shuddering breath before carrying on walking. A lone car passed Harry, furiously beeping the horn.

"What do you want? Have you never seen a boy walk by himself?" Harry said to himself, allowing his feet to pound against the ground.

Would he ever stop? Would he ever go back home? It wasn't really home, was it? Harry laughed quietly and grunted when he felt that his feet were aching. His feet rubbed against faded shoes that had no laces. His big toe poked through the hole in his sock and hit the front part of his trainers. It was uncomfortable and pained him with every step he took.

Suddenly, heavy raindrops lashed against Harry's unprotected head. His hair was slick with rain, and it trickled down his forehead. Harry carried on walking and blinked when he felt the rain streaming into his eyes.

When he opened his eyes, In front of him was a large but dilapidated playground that had seemingly been forgotten by everyone else. He stood there and gripped the metal fencing, and listened to the sound of rusted metal creaking when a gust of wind blew into the playground. He shuddered at the chilling wind. Harry peered into the playground and wondered if anybody was in there.

His eyes scanned the playground from the outside and saw nothing. A large tree towered over him like a giant, its branches were creaking and leaves were twisting as if they were turned by an invisible wand. The roundabout creaked when it began to spin; the metal creaked as if it was screaming.

An owl was perched on the top of a branch and its talons were curled around the branch and watched Harry with gazing eyes.

"Stupid owl! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Harry said quietly and kept his hand over his pounding heart. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. Go on! Get lost! Get the hell out of here!"

The owl stayed there and gazed at him. Harry grunted and mumbled something. Slowly, Harry leaped over the low level fence of the playground and trudged across the dampening grass. The playground was empty and so were the surrounding streets. The playground looked like it had been forgotten, rusted monkey bars and swings. Smiling, Harry had finally fought a swing, a swing and sat down onto one of them. He was pleased, and it was the only one that Dudley and his friends hadn't yet managed to break, the other one was missing one of the chains. He swung slowly, dragging his feet across the gravel and said nothing.

He looked up at the darkening sky and gazed at the large moon. He saw the twinkling stars and still felt the rain lashing against his forehead. It trickled over his strikingly peculiar lightning-bolt shaped scar. He rubbed it when it prickled.

There was a flash, and suddenly Harry saw Lord Voldemort's gloating and pale face. That white skull floated into his mind, knocking him off the swing. With a loud thud, Harry landed on the cold and hard gravel and felt as if something had punched him in the stomach. Dusting himself off, Harry stood up and took his seat back on the swing.

He looked up at the darkening sky and gazed at the large moon. He saw the twinkling stars and still felt the rain lashing against his forehead. It trickled over his scar and down his face.

"Come on, Lord Voldemort! Where the hell are you?" Harry whispered and glanced around the playground. "Where are you? Too scared to even show your face around here?

Slowly swinging himself, Harry didn't know what was going to happen when he returned back to school. Would they all shun him again? Would anyone believe him? He allowed himself to lapse into silence and welcomed the drowsy silence that hung over the playground.

When he heard voices break the silence of the playground, he snapped his head up to see figures moving through the darkness. He squinted and tried to see who they were, and then it him when he heard that ever so familiar voice.

"I did it!" Dudley cackled loudly, quickly followed by his gormless friends. "I knocked him out cold. That'll teach him to run his mouth at me, ever again."

"You hit him, Dud! I can't believe how fast he fell!" Piers Polkiss congratulated Dudley, slapping him over the back as a high-pitched giggle came out of his mouth. "You should've seen the blood dripping out of his nose. He squealed like a gutted pig in a slaughterhouse."

Piers Polkiss was a scrawny looking boy with a face that looked it had been squished. He walked beside his expensive mountain bike; his feet dragged across the ground as he followed Dudley like a lost puppy.

"We'll see you same time tomorrow, Dudley. Right?" Malcolm Caruthers said and hopefully looked at Dudley with a beaming expression. "Are you coming over mine for tea?"

Malcolm Caruthers was a tall and lankly boy, and was gormless as it appeared that had a confused expression permanently etched into his face. He bounced on his tiptoes every time he took a step forward. His greasy black hair hung in front of his forehead like a unveiling curtain, a glistening and thin line of sweat dotted his forehead. He held onto a white football, bouncing it off the ground and back into his hands. Malcolm wore a Chelsea home shirt and the shorts with pride.

"We can go to the swimming baths and stare at the girls from our school!" Dennis Richardson said excitingly, practically bouncing up and down at the thought of it. "Those ladies won't know what hit them. Maybe I'll talk to Sophie Nelson. I might ask her out. She's the most beautiful girl in all the school.

"That's what you think, Dennis!" Gordon McKenna teased his friend and dodged a playful punch.

"See you tomorrow, Big D!" His friends cried in unison and began walking away.

"Right," Dudley grunted and said goodbye to his friends. "That would be nice." Dudley said to himself once his friends had disappeared.

Once Dudley's friends had gone, he snuck into the playground through a large hole in the fence. He walked forward with his head down.

"Hiya, Dudley!" Harry said in a mocking tone, a grin was on his face as his cousin turned around and grunted when he saw who was talking to him. "You're not going to say hello to your dear cousin?"

Dudley stopped and turned to look at Harry. He scowled at Harry; his jaw tightened as he gazed at his cousin's beaming face.

"What do you want, Harry?" Dudley asked, he growled and snorted. His pig like nose was scrunched when he saw his cousin walking toward him. "Do you know that you're in so much trouble when you get home? I don't think you're going to eat for a week after my father is finished with you.

Harry shrugged shoulders and merely grinned.

"Do you think I care, Dudley?" Harry said and laughed. He swung on the swing and continued laughing. "I could just run away and never come back. Would you like that?"

"I wish you would," Dudley said silently and began to speak up. "I'm going home and I will my Mum and Dad that I have seen you."

"Please do! Are you running to Mummy and Daddy?" Harry said and mocked his cousin with one of his dazzling smiles.

Dudley shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. A sneer curled onto his face

"At least I'm loved, where are you parents, Harry? Can't they take you away from my home? Oh, wait! They're dead!

When Harry watched Dudley walk away, it angered him and channelled all the rage into him. He stood up and followed him out of the playground.

Stomping his feet, Harry grunted and followed Dudley into a darkened subway. The lights flickered around them and fizzled.

"Wait a minute, Dudley!" Harry called after his cousin and sprinted after him.

"Hey, Dudley!" Harry cried when made sure that he was stood front of him. "I thought you weren't leaving the house. It's quite early for you to leave the house, isn't it? I thought you would've been tucked in bed right now."

"I changed my mind; I can do that, can't I?" Dudley retorted, snorting loudly. "You think that you can tell me what to do?"

"What makes you think that, Dudley?" Harry "With this wand here, I could force you do anything I want."

"I'll tell my mother and father, you know what they'll do to you. Don't you, Harry?" Dudley taunted Harry and grinned that shit-eating smile.

"Yes," "But I thought you were this brave man, a brave boxer who isn't scared of anything. But you're scared of me and my little wand."

"What are you doing, Harry?" Dudley squeaked and glanced around. It felt as if a ghostly hand had travelled up his spine. "You're using magic? Dad said you aren't allowed to use magic outside of school. He'll said you'll get kicked out of that freak school!

"What? You think that I am doing something, Dudley? I haven't done anything!" Harry protested and waved his wand around. "I didn't do anything. It must be something else then, Dudley. What could it be? Dementors? Harry added silently.

"I want to go home!" Dudley bawled, clenching his hands. "I'm cold! I'm so cold, Harry! It 's bloody freezing! Make it stop! It feels like I'm never going to be happy again."

"Cold?" Harry repeated to himself, and glanced around. His eyes scanned the tunnel and feasted on the frozen water. "The feeling of not being happy again? Are you sure, Dudley?"

Dudley nodded and could feel the frost glazing over his eyes. He breathed heavy and could see his own breath, a small circles of clouds were appearing in front of him.

"I've never been this cold before, Harry," Dudley said and shuddered loudly. "What's happening?

A sudden curtain of fog had seemingly appeared from nowhere. Lights at either end of the subway had vanished. The distant sound of rumbling cars up above and the whisper of trees had gone. The blistering evening was suddenly turned into a shuddering cold one. Harry and Dudley were now completely surrounded by an impenetrable curtain of fog. It was silent in the darkness that engulfed the two teenagers and it was as if someone had placed them into life-size snow globe.

Harry knew that they weren't the only ones in this subway. He swallowed hard and looked around, but he saw nothing. For a mere second, Harry had thought had he done magic without even meaning to, despite the fact that he'd been forcing himself not to. It then came clear to him. He didn't have a spell that could change the weather or make a subway get engulfed by fog. Harry turned his head to look both ways, and tried to see something.

"What are you doing? Stop it, Harry!" Dudley's terrified voice broke the silence that hung in the subway.

"What? I'm not doing anything? Do you think I can do something when I'm not even touching my wand? Why don't you just shut up and let me find out what's going on, okay, Dudley? I said shut up!

"What are you doing, Harry? I can't see anymore! I've gone blind! What are you doing to me? I'm telling Mum!

"Did you not hear what I just said, Dudley? I said shut the hell up! I'm trying to help you here?"

Harry stood completely still and turned his blinded eyes left and right. The cold air was so frightening that Harry was shivering and shuddering, goose bumps had erupted up his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He looked around and was still blinded.

"Quit whimpering, Dudley!" Harry hissed and glanced around. "I'm trying to listen to something but I can't because your big fat gob!"

"If you don't stop this, I'll tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered and shuddered. "Where have you gone, Harry? What are you doing? Stop it, Harry!"

"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed and coughed. "I'm trying to figure out what's going on. I think it might…"

Harry automatically silenced when he heard the thing that he thought he would never see again. He knew that there something in the subway apart from him and Dudley, and it was something that didn't belong here. It was something that was drawing a long, hoarse and rattling breath. Harry felt a sickening jolt of fear as he stood trembling in the freezing air. He turned his head to look at the other side of the subway and shuddered at what he was looking directly at.

It felt as if his stomach had been dropped from a height. He looked at a towering and hooded figure that was gliding effortlessly towards him, and hovered over the ground. It had no feet or face visible beneath its robe, but it sucked on the night as it glided toward Harry and Dudley.

"Dementors? In Little Whinging?" Harry croaked, he went to take his wand out of the waistband of his jeans but was knocked down by the gliding Dementor. "Dudley! Dudley! Dudley! Run! Get the hell out of here?"

Dudley nodded his head and for the first time in his life, listened to what his cousin was saying.

Harry sat up and looked around for his wand, but couldn't see anything in the darkened tunnel. The lights flickered on the wall and fizzed.

"Lumos!" Harry cried out in pain, and looked around for his wand.

The tip of his wand was lit up like streetlamp and illuminated the subway. He saw his wand, and suddenly lunged for it. Gripping it tightly, his wand was lifted and pointed directly at the two floating Dementors.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry suddenly bellowed and remembered the spell that Remus Lupin had told him in his third year. "Expecto Patronum!"

He gasped when nothing happened. He stared with his wide eyes, looking down at the wand where a faint, slivery wisp lifelessly fluttered out of the end of his wand and then immediately died. The happiness was slowly draining from his body; the colour from his face had gone and left a ghastly looking colour. He looked like a walking ghost.

There was another Dementor glided into him, bashing him into the wall of the subway. He heard Dudley screaming like a gutted pig. Harry turned and saw the Dementor hovering over his cousin, reaching down toward his face.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry bellowed when he saw his mother and father's beaming face.

Suddenly, an enormous silvery stag burst out of the tip of his trembling wand. The stag's antlers were rammed and caught the Dementor in the place where the stomach should have been. There was a groan as the cloaked creature was thrown backwards, as light as a floating feather and groaned when the stag charged forward and it flew away in defeat.

"Merlin! GET IT, BOY!" Harry shouted at the slivery and whispery creature. He turned around, running down the subway and held onto his lit upward wand. "Dudley? Where are you, Dudley?"

Hurrying down the subway, Harry had only taken a dozen of steps until he reached the second Dementor and his cousin. A piercing scream echoed through the air and Harry had found Dudley curled up on the ground, and his hands were effortlessly trying to cover his mouth. Harry's eyes feasted on the second Dementor that was crouching over him, gripping Dudley's wrists in its sickly looking hands, and it violently prised his hands away from his mouth. The hood was lowered and the Dementor's head was inched towards Dudley's as if was about to kiss like a husband and wife would do.

"COME ON! GET IT!" Harry shouted at the top of his voice and pointed his wand directly at the Dementor. "GET IT!"

There was a rushing and roaring sound as the sliver stag eventually came thundering past him. The Dementor's hoodless face was barely an inch away from Dudley's face when it was attacked by the galloping Patronus. Quickly, the creature was violently tossed up into the air like a battered rag doll. It followed its friend and disappeared, and the stag thundered out of the subway and disappeared through the curtain of fog.

Harry felt a sudden rush of relief escape from when the curtain of fog slowly disappeared. The subway lights flickered back to life and illuminated the sickly and unhealthy looking subway. Slowly, the rumble of the passing vehicles was heard and the wind picked up. Harry stood quite still and straightened himself up, and his mind was pounding as it became adjusted to the sudden return to normality. He tried to figure what had happened with him and Dudley. He knew never that he would find Dementors in Little Whinging.

The wizard screamed when suddenly a pair of hands grabbed him from nowhere. He spun around and nearly drove his wand into the person's eye. His eyes bugled out of their sockets when he saw Mrs. Figg standing in front of him.

"Mrs. Figg? What are you doing here? No!" Harry automatically said and went to stuff his wand back into the waistband of his trousers. "No! You didn't see anything, Mirs. Figg!"

"Don't you even dare think about putting that wand away, Harry?" Mrs. Figg thundered and glanced around. "There might be more of them coming. You need to keep your wand out, Harry."

"My wand? How do you know about my wand?" Harry asked Mrs. Figg and felt his eyes bulge out of his sockets. "Are you a witch?"

"No, but I am Squib, Harry," Mrs. Figg explained and smiled warmly at Harry.

"What?" Harry cried and stared at Mrs. Figg. "Since when?"

"Since I was born, Harry! Do you think I could just turn into a Squib when I chose?"

Harry gazed at Mrs. Figg and couldn't believe what he was looking at.


	3. A Peck Of Owls

This is basically my version of Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Harry will be paired with someone, but I haven't figured out who it is going to be. Thanks you for the reviews either though one was the only one that could've been classed as constructive criticism. Thank you for that.

-Chapter Three-

-A Peck of Owls-

Harry stood there and it felt as if he had been smacked in the head by a Bludger. What had just happened? Was this a dream that he couldn't escape from? He shook his head back and forth; his hair was slick with sweat like he had been running a marathon. He automatically gripped a firm hand around his wand and shuddered.

Mrs. Figg was Squib! Harry listened to that thought and shook his head. Had she been here to watch him as well? The wizard stared at the Squib and blinked rapidly and wondered why she never told him after knowing him so long. He was more than confused, a sickening knot tightened in his stomach every time he breathed. His stomach churned, but was he feeling sick because he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast.

He licked his lips nervously and felt that his throat was dry. Harry coughed, and raked a firm hand through his hair as he tried to figure everything out. The panting wizard wished everything he was a dream and he would wake up with Aunt Petunia screaming outside his door.

Harry slowly closed his eyes and hummed to himself. He opened his eyes and saw Mrs. Figg's gleaming and wide eyes staring back at him. His eyes sought Mrs. Figg's withered face,

"Are you feeling okay, Harry?" Mrs. Figg asked and hummed to herself. "I followed you as soon as you stormed out of your Aunt and Uncle's home. I've been following you ever since then."

"You've been following me since I left the Dursley's home? You've been following since this morning!" Harry bellowed and caused Mrs. Figg to jump back and squeal. "Why would you follow me all that time? Haven't you got something better to do?"

Mrs. Figg stood there and her tattered grey hair blew out from underneath her hairnet that looked more like a plastic carrier bag. She wore what Harry thought was the most disgusting looking pajamas that he had ever seen. Her slippers were half hanging off her feet, and it appeared that she didn't mind the coldness nipping at her bare skin. She looked forward and studied Harry's alarmed demeanor.

The grip on Harry's wand was still tighter than ever. His hand hadn't loosened from his wooden instrument, and his head was like a vice around it.

"You can let go of the wand now, Harry! You don't need to grip it that tightly, let your hand free," Mrs. Figg said sweetly and smiled warmly at Harry. He had grown since the last time she had seen him.

Without meaning to, Harry took a step back and kept a firm hand gripped around his wand.

Mrs. Figg said nothing and wondered why Harry was taking a couple of step backwards. Her billowing shopping bags billowed and shook when she walked forward and followed Harry.

"Are you okay, dear? Did the Dementors do anything to do? Do you need medical aid? How about a piece of chocolate, would you lie that, Harry?" Mrs. Figg said in the sweetest voice, and raked around in one of overstuffed shopping bags. "I know I've got some chocolate in here. Ah! Yes! Would you like some lovey chocolate, Harry?"

With a firm tug, Mrs. Figg grunted weakly and managed to pull out a Whisper Bar. It had melted.

"I was going to give it to one of the neighbor's children. I think that you need more than anyone else. Take it, Harry!" Mrs. Figg insisted and waved the melted chocolate bar in front of Harry's face. "Are sure that you don't want a piece or the full bar?"

Harry simply shook his head and said nothing. With a simple shrug of his shoulder, Harry refused and took another step backwards. He shook his head and kept his mouth closed shut.

"Take a bite, Harry!" Mrs. Figg screeched and vigorously shook her head. "What do you think I am, Harry? A Death Eater disguised as Mrs. Figg? Come on, Harry! You can trust me."

Mrs. Figg carefully opened the Whisper Bar and discarded the wrapper at the bottom of her carrier bag. The clump chocolate felt sickly in her hand as she offered it to Harry, and was surprised when he didn't take it gratefully.

"Are you sure that you don't want a piece of chocolate, Harry? You can trust me, Harry," Mrs. Figg said sweetly, and smiled. Her eyes stared at him like they were pleading with him. "What's wrong, Harry? I think you can trust me, how long have I known you?"

Harry gazed at Mrs. Figg and said nothing. Was it actually Mrs. Figg or someone else? The wizard stared at the old woman, and the strong odor of cats assaulted his nostrils. Everything confused him, it hurt when he breathed and his jumper and t-shirt still clung sickly to his frame. He shuddered, even though a warm evening breeze had just hit him.

"Can I trust you, Mrs. Figg? Harry said silently, he took a bite out of the chocolate bar and waited for something to happen. "I'm not sure who to believe now. You could be anyone? Are you sure that this chocolate bar would turn me into a disgusting, slimly green toad."

Mrs. Figg let out a giggle and shook her head back and forth. He waited and waited. He waited another three or four seconds before taking a second bite out of the chocolate bite out of the chocolate bar that Mrs. Figg had gratefully given him.

"You might not have poisoned the chocolate, but that could've been part of your plan," Harry said and took another bite, and then ate the whole chocolate bar. "But I still don't trust you, Mrs. Figg."

Mrs. Figg stood there and still wondered what was going through Harry's mind. Why was he acting like this? She clutched her shopping bag and the sound of tinned cat food clanked together. The Squib squinted at the young wizard and tried to judge him. She stared at the large and dark circles underneath his eyes, wondering how much sleeping he was getting these past nights.

"Why are you staring at me like that for, Harry? Do you still think I'm someone else?" Mrs. Figg asked curiously, and she scratched her wrinkled cheek. "You seem frustrated, Harry. Are you sure that you're okay? Do you trust me, Harry?"

Harry said nothing and simply shrugged his shoulders.

"You can never know, can you, Mrs. Figg?" Harry replied and squinted at the woman in front of him. "Does anyone trust or believe me?"

The Squib nodded her head and looked at Harry with those large and reassuringly eyes.

"I believe you, Harry," Mrs. Figg said and gave Harry a reassuring smile. "I believe you and I always will. I know is that Voldemort has returned."

She spoke his name, looked around and shuddered.

Was it someone using Polyjuice Potion? Harry thought and that thought made his grip his wand even tighter. He gripped his wand tightly and wasn't afraid to use it. Would he use it? Was Mrs. Figg someone else? A cold and spine-tingling chill traveled up his back, making the hairs on neck stand up.

"I feel sick, Harry!" Dudley exclaimed in a soft whisper, his pale chubby face looked like it had been painted with the color green.

Dudley's large frame was slumped onto the cold and wet ground. Harry stared at him and wondered how affected he was by the Dementor attack.

"Magic is a very strange thing, isn't it, Harry?" Mrs. Figg said and she looked around, her eyes scanned everywhere. "You have just used a spell to repel two Dementors.

"Can a Squib see Dementors?" Harry asked and it was the first thought that came into his mind. "Did you see them?"

"No," Mrs. Figg replied and shuddered when she thought of those creatures in a Muggle town. "I don't know what they are

"Maybe somebody sent them. Maybe Lord Voldemort's got some working inside the Ministry," Harry

"I bet you have plenty of questions that you want to ask me," Mrs. Figg said and shifted nervously.

"What do you mean? You've known about magic for all this time and you didn't bother tell me anything? Why not? Why didn't you tell me?" Harry demanded and shouted, his voice echoed throughout the subway. "You could've told me! Were you ashamed of being a Squib, Mrs. Figg?"

Mrs. Figg said nothing and stayed quiet.

"I wasn't ashamed, Harry. Do you really think I would be ashamed? No! I wasn't bothered about not being able to perform magic; my parents were the ones who were ashamed of me. Professor Dumbledore told me to watch out for you after what happened last year."

"Professor Dumbledore? You know Professor Dumbledore? Your just full of surprises, aren't you, Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked and was surprised when Mrs. Figg said nothing, watching her return back to her normal and quiet demeanour. "Why are you staying quiet and not saying much. I want to know the answers to the questions that I am asking you. Answer me!

"I can't really say much, Harry. Professor Dumbledore told me only to watch over you and not answer any questions that you ask me.

"How long have you known Professor Dumbledore, Mrs. Figg?

"Too long," Mrs. Figg said and then found herself smiling at the baffled wizard in front of her. "I was placed in Wisteria Walk as soon as your parents died, Harry. Why did you think I didn't give you exciting things to do?

"If Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia knew I was having fun, they wouldn't have allowed me to come back," Harry answered and realised what his uncle and aunt would've done if they found out that Mrs. Figg was related

"That's exactly correct, Harry!" Mrs. Figg exclaimed and nodded her head.

"Why did you follow me, Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked and looked at Mrs. Figg and the only thing he wanted was someone to answer him.

Mrs. Figg scowled and growled underneath her shuddering breath.

"Someone else was meant to be following you and keeping a watch on you for the rest of the day, his shift wasn't supposed to end until midnight," Mrs. Figg explained and muttered. "If I see him again, he's going to wish that he was never born.

Harry stood there and gawked at Mrs Figg.

"What? Who was supposed to be keeping an eye on me?" Harry asked and was offered another piece of chocolate.

Harry glanced around and still wondered if the Dementors were still coming for him.

"Mundungus Fletcher," Mrs. Figg replied and nodded her head. "He's nothing but a waste of space. I still don't even know why Professor Dumbledore trusts him. I think he left because he found an opportunity to recover some stolen cauldrons for the Weasley twins. If I see him again, I swear on my husband's grave that I will bash him to death with this bag of shopping!"

At the mention of Weasley, Harry scowled but shared a friendship with the two red-haired twins. Ron was a different subject, that annoying, lousy, immature freak wasn't even a friend for Harry. Jealously, it was a thing that stopped him having a great friend. Hermione Granger soon followed her boyfriend and stopped all communications with her best friend.

"You mean that Mundungus Fletcher was the one who Apperated outside of Mr. Chopra's store?" Harry curiously questioned Mrs. Figg and waited for an answer. "I nearly died of a heart attack when that happened. Is that where he went?"

Mrs. Figg nodded her head and her slivery white hair flew out from underneath her hairnet when the gust of wind blew throughout dimly illuminated subway.

"That fool could've stopped you from using that spell," Mrs. Figg hissed and said something that Harry didn't quite understand. "If he was here, he would've followed you all the way and would've stopped you from ever encountering those Dementors. We need to get out of here and get you home. You can be nice and safe there."

"I think I would rather be fighting Dementors than be stuck at home with the Dursley's," Harry said sarcastically and looked down at his cousin who was muttering something about never being happy again.

"Who is going to carry him, Harry?" Mrs. Figg asked and pointed down at Dudley.

"I think I'll do it. I don't think you've got the muscle to carry this stupid boy," Harry said and grunted when he took a hold of Dudley's left arm and grunted. "Uh! I don't think that Aunt Petunia's dieting has helped at all."

Grunting loudly, Harry had managed to completely hoist Dudley onto his feet and was surprised that he didn't collapse while holding his cousin. It seemed that Dudley was to be on the point of collapsing to the ground. The wizard looked at the Muggle and saw that his small and narrowing eyes were rolling around in their sockets, and the thick sweat was dripping off his face. Harry let his hand slip away from his Dudley and saw that swayed dangerously.

"Merlin!" Harry grunted and had to grab Dudley by the shoulder before he fell back down onto the ground. "It looks like I'm going to have to carry him all the way back to Privet Drive. Let's get going then?"

"Let's get going then! Hurry up!" Mrs. Figg said hysterically. "Let's get going, Harry! We haven't got all night! Have we, Harry?"

Dudley rested heavy on his cousin and groaned. With an effort, Harry had managed to fling Dudley's massive arms around his own shoulders and dragged him forward, pulling him towards the road and Harry leaned forward when they reached the end of the subway. He looked forward and watched Mrs. Figg nervously tottering along in front of him and his cousin, and watched her when she peered anxiously around the corner. Slowly, he went to stuff his wand his wand into the waistband of his trousers.

Mrs. Figg turned her head around and glared him.

"I think you should at least keep your wand out, Harry," Mrs. Figg told Harry as the three of them entered Wisteria Walk. "I don't think you need to worry about exposing yourself to the Muggle World. You're already in enough trouble as it is. Professor Dumbledore knew that something like this would happen and was afraid that's why he had Fletcher watching over you. That turned out great, didn't it, Harry?"

She glanced down and could see something moving at the end of the street.

"Is that something at the end of the street? Oh, I think it's just Mrs. Weed taking out the garbage, keep your wand out, Harry. Do you know for a fact that I'm no good when it comes to fighting against Dementor?

"I can't keep my wand and carry Dudley at the same," Harry grunted and knew that he must do it. What happened if more of them came and he was wandless? He held tightly on his and Dudley, struggling to move forward.

For Harry, struggling to move Dudley and hold a wand and keep a half-unconscious Dudley resting against his leaning frame.

"So are you going to least tell me why you didn't say that you're a Squib, Mrs. Figg?" Harry asked, he swallowed hard and panted when he tried to walk another

"Like I said before, Harry, if you had kindly listened to me," Mrs. Figg said softly and walked to side of Harry and his collapsing cousin. She looked around and her eyes were scanning the entire surrounding for anything that seemed to be out of place. "I was ordered by Professor Dumbledore not to tell you anything, Harry. You weren't supposed to know that anybody was watching or that I was a Squib, Harry. I can't believe that Mundungus left before his shift had finished. How am I going to tell Dumbledore what's happened? Hurry up, Harry! Let's get going then!"

Harry knew that speaking to Mrs. Figg would cause him to be ore exhausted, and noted that he could barely walk forward with Dudley's weight painfully weighing on him. They walked and walked without stopping. For Harry, it seemed as if they were walking for hours and hours.

'I'll take you to the door and that's only in case something happens, can't let you get attacked for the second time, can we?" Mrs. Figg said softly and slowly walked as all three of them turned sharply into Privet Drive.

Privet Drive was rather quiet at night and the only thing that could be heard was the distant sound of a lone vehicle passing somewhere close.

"I'll speak to you soon, Harry," Mrs. Figg said softly and patted him gently on the shoulder

"What are you going to do now, Mrs. Figg?" Harry suddenly asked Mrs. Figg and waited for answer. "Are you staying here with me, Mrs. Figg? You can try and help me explain to the Dursley's what happened."

"It's not my business to be here, Harry, I' m going straight home where it's safer, it's my orders, Harry," Mrs. Figg said and didn't explain further, she stared around at the dark street and shuddered. "I will have to wait there for more instructions. Why don't you just stay in the house and keep your wand with you at all times. Goodnight and don't try to do anything stupid, Harry."

"Wait a goddman minute, Mrs. Figg!" I want to know everything! Please don't go yet, Mrs. Figg! I want to know everything that Professor Dumbledore had been telling you! Answer me!"

But before Harry could say anything else, Mrs. Figg had already begun to walk away from him. He stood there and watched the withered lady walk away, her slippers bounced off the ground as she continued to walk away. Harry shouted after her and watched her slowly walk away without looking back. What had happened? Since, Mrs. Figg was in contact

He wanted to ask Mrs. Figg question after question as she was the only person he knew that had contact with Professor Dumbledore. Harry swore when Mrs. Figg disappeared into the spreading darkness. Swearing and scowling, Harry positioned himself differently and slowly trudged up the pathway of number Four Privet Drive.

Harry saw that the hall light and the living room light were on. Looking around slowly, Harry stuffed his wand back inside the waistband of his trousers. He ran the bell and patiently waited. Squinting through the rippling glass, Harry could see Aunt Petunia walking toward the front door.

"I thought you were going to have a sleep over, Dudley! Why didn't you ring, Dudders?" Aunt Petunia said and laughed. She spoke through the door and knew that Dudley was with Harry. "I was starting to get worried."

She opened the door and looked forward at her son and nephew. Harry nervously looked around and looked directly at Dudley and moved. He watched as Dudley stumbled at the front doorstep for about a short moment, and coughed when he vomited all over the doormat.

"DUDLEY! DUDDERS! ARE YOU FEELING OKAY, DUDLEY? WHAT'S A MATTER? DOES YOUR STOMACH FEEL FUNNY? VERNON! VERNON!"

Grunting in his usual way, Uncle Vernon came stomping out of the living room and was angered that he was interrupted from watching his favourite television show. _Family Fortunes. _His large and ungroomed moustache wobbled with every step he took. Grunting again, Uncle Vernon bounced forward and helped Aunt Petunia manoeuvre a half unconscious Dudley across the hallway and avoided a spray of sick when Dudley opened his mouth to speak. They helped into the kitchen and didn't even notice that Harry had slipped into the house.

'I think we might need to take him to the hospital, Vernon. He's ill, Vernon!"

"What do you mean ill, Petunia?" Uncle Vernon asked and studied his son's chubby and pale faced.

"What have you had to eat, today, Dudley? Did you have anything rich for tea? Did Mrs. Caruthers give you anything foreign for tea? I thought I told you not to eat anything foreign! You know that you have a bad stomach after you've eaten it! You know I'm right, Dudley?"

"He's eating food from there a number of times and he hasn't been sick!" Uncle Vernon and scratched his forehead curiously. "What could it be? Do you reckon he's seen something?"

Uncle Vernon stared at his son and grunted when his eyes scanned over his slumped body. What had happened out there? Had he been mugged?

"You haven't been mugged, have you? What happened out there?"

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia squeaked loudly, her upper lip trembled when she glanced back at her trembling son. "What happened son?"

Dudley's large head rocked back and forth. His blonde hair was stuck to his scalp, his strands of hair felt dirty as he glanced up at his mother and father. His eyes were wide with fear, and he opened his mouth but closed it quickly when he felt something bubbling in his throat.

"I think he's trying to tell us who did it, Vernon," Aunt Petunia said and trembled from head to toe. "Who did it, Dudley? Can you give us a name?"

When Uncle Vernon and Aunt were talking to Dudley, Harry thought it was best to slip upstairs and away from the Dursley's.

"It was him! It was Harry! He did it, Mum!" Dudley cried, vomiting for the second time.

A sickly spray of yellow splashed against the laminated kitchen floor.

"You mean Harry, Dudley? Did Harry do this to you?" Aunt Petunia said and watched Dudley timidly nod his head.

"HARRY POTTER!" Uncle Vernon roared and thundered at his nephew. "GET BACK IN THE KITCHEN!"

Harry's foot had barely hit the first step when he was shouted by his Uncle Vernon. His heart had leaped into his throat, his stomach felt as if it had been flipped over and dropped. What would he say? Why couldn't Mrs. Figg explain anything to them? Harry took his foot of the first step of the staircase and hurried into the kitchen where he was confronted by angry Uncle Vernon.

"ARE YOU GOING TO EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT YOU DID TO MY BOY, POTTER?" Uncle Vernon screamed loudly, grabbing Harry by the collar of his jumper and slamming into the fridge.

Harry crashed into the fridge and felt his head smack off it. Uncle Vernon pulled Harry away from the fridge only to bring him crashing back into it.

"ANSWER ME, HARRY!" Uncle Vernon said and his hand began to grip tightly around Harry's neck. "WHA THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY BOY, HARRY?"

"I can't breathe, Uncle Vernon!" Harry managed to gasp out, his uncle's sausages fingers were wrapped tightly around his neck, tighter than a vice.

Suddenly, he was released from Uncle Vernon's tight grasp and slid down the fridge. A hard and heavy magnet fell onto his head, nearly knocking him out cold.

"Ow!" Harry grunted, soothingly rubbing his head

"What did you do to my baby, Harry?" Aunt Petunia asked, she stroked her hand across her son's cheek and cooed affectionately. "Did you use magic, Harry?"

Harry grunted but said nothing. He looked forward and could see three distorted figures, and it seemed as if he was sitting down on the deck of a ship by the way he was swaying.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY BOY, HARRY?" Uncle Vernon roared, delivering a devastating slap to the face. "ANSWER ME!

Harry grunted and skidded across the laminated. He painfully slammed into the kitchen counter.

"What the hell have you done to me son?" Uncle Vernon asked in a menacing growl and snarled.

Uncle Vernon landed a straight hook on Harry's face and the sound of his glasses crunching against face was soon heard filling the kitchen.

"I didn't do anything, Uncle Vernon!" Harry protested and defended himself, but knew that Uncle Vernon wouldn't believe a word he was saying. "I didn't do anything."

"Is he lying, Dudley?" Aunt Petunia asked as her voice faltered as she focused on wiping the mud and sick from the front of Dudley's leather jacket. "Did he have his thing out? Did he use his thing against you? Was it magic, honey?"

She cried and smoothed a hand down his cheek.

Dudley nodded his head out and let out a strained wail. He quivered and shuddered, his head thumped and the screaming in his head continued. It was his worst fear, his worst fear wasn't going to go away.

"What? I didn't do anything to him!" Harry said firmly and swore quietly underneath his breath.

"YOU DID SOMETHING TO MY BOY, HARRY!" Aunt Petunia wailed and sobbed as Uncle Vernon threateningly raised his fists.

"What? I didn't do anything!" Harry shouted at the top of his voice and knew that nobody would believe him.

"LIES!" Uncle Vernon bellowed, he went to hit Harry but was stopped by Aunt Petunia.

"What are the neighbours going to think when they see his bruised face?"

Harry's protests were drowned out by the loud screech of an owl that majestically swooped through the kitchen window. Panicked screams filled the kitchen room as the owl flew into the kitchen and missed Uncle Vernon and Harry who were both stood in the middle of the kitchen. The owl had an envelope with the Ministry of Magic seal was clamped in its beak.

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE, HARRY?" Uncle Vernon shouted and his large face reddened. He screamed again as he slammed the window closed so hard that it nearly shattered.

"Vernon!" Aunt Petunia complained as she tutted disapprovingly. "Watch the windows. I don't want to have call someone out to have them repaired.

"I know, Petunia! I DON'T WANT MORE OWLS IN MY HOUSE! GIVE ME THAT LETTER, BOY!" Uncle Vernon demanded and held his large hand out. "GIVE IT TO ME BOY!"

Harry refused to listen to his Uncle Vernon and didn't hand the envelope over. He was already ripping into envelope's seal and pulled out the letter inside. His heart pounded underneath his breastbone when he held the thin letter in his hand.

"It's addressed to me, Uncle Vernon. Why would I give you a letter that was addressed to me, Uncle Vernon?"

"What does it say, Harry?"

Harry never answered but gazed absentmindedly at the letter in front of him.

Dear Mr. Potter.

We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle. The seventy of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand. As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the Twentieth Fifth of August.

Hoping you are well,  
Yours sincerely,  
Mafalda Hopkirk  
Improper Use of Magic Office  
Ministry of Magic

Harry stared at the letter as he tried to figure out what was going on. Expelled from Hogwarts? He was never going back to the only place that he called home and belonged somewhere. What would happen? Would his wand get snapped?

"WHERE THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOUR'RE GOING, HARRY?" Uncle Vernon screamed at his nephew, and cursed when he didn't get a reply. He hurried across the kitchen, his large feet thundered on the laminated flooring. "YOU LISTEN TO ME, BOY!

"I'm getting the hell out of here. I'm not being shouted for something that I didn't do," Harry said snapped and held tightly onto his wand. "Move out of the way! Get the hell out of my way, Uncle Vernon!"

"NO! YOU STAY THERE AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED, HARRY! STAY THERE! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY SON, HARRY? TELL ME!"

"NO! I SAID GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY, UNCLE VERNON!" Harry shouted loudly and didn't care if the neighbours heard as sparks flew out of his wand. "I WILL HEX YOU INTO NEXT WEEK!"

"You think that you can hex me into next week, Harry?" Uncle Vernon asked with an unbelievably. "I know that they haven't changed the rules in that madhouse!

"Do you think I honestly care about school anymore, Uncle Vernon? I've just been kicked out of the school!" Harry thundered and squared up his uncle. He looked up him up and down. "I might be getting my wand snapped and sentenced.

"That'll teach you!" Uncle Vernon cackled like a madman. "You're never going back to that place you call home."

The silence was interrupted by a loud crack; it was the sound of something crashing against glass. An owl, a fluttering brown owl suddenly came into the kitchen room after flying through the open patio door. Harry narrowed his eyes and looked directly at the owl. Was that Hagrid's owl?"

"Come here, Brownie," Harry whispered.

The brown owl stuck outs its leg, and there was a small roll of parchment was tied. It took off the moment when Harry had taken the letter. What was this letter going to be? His hands shook; Harry unfurled the second message that was written messily on the small note. He knew it was Hagrid's writing.

**Harry**_**  
**__**Dumbledore's going to arrive a**__**t the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. **_

_**DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND. **_**Rubeus Hagrid**

Was Dumbledore powerful enough to take on the whole Ministry? Was everything going to be okay? He shook his head and scratched his forehead.

"I think I am going to have to stay here for the time being," Harry said but didn't stuff his wand back into the waistband of his trousers.

"Can you at least tell me where all these owls were coming from?" he growled and shot a questioning look toward Harry.

"I don't need to tell you anything, Uncle Vernon," Harry responded coolly and kept a tight hold of his wand. "I haven't done anything and If you really want to know, one of those letters was telling me that I've been expelled from school. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Why have you been expelled from school if you didn't do anything from?"

Uncle Vernon's enormous face was the colour of deep purple.

"I've been expelled from school because I used magic!" Harry exclaimed and gripped his wand when Uncle Vernon roared.

The wand didn't shake nor tremble in his hand.

"So you did use magic, then, Harry?" Uncle Vernon suddenly said and slammed his hand against the chopping board. The large knife bounced and landed back on the chopping board. "YOU USED MAGIC AT MY BOY!"

"I didn't use magic at him; I was using magic to…" Harry protested but his pleading tone was immediately drowned by Uncle Vernon roaring loudly and pounding his fist against the fridge. "Are you even listening to a word that I'm saying? I'm not telling lies."

"LIES!" Uncle Vernon bellowed and approached Harry like a large and raging rhinoceros.

Without thinking, Harry moved forward and pointed the wand against Uncle's Vernon neck and pressed it against his skin.

"All I need to speak is one word; I could have you floating around like a bird, Uncle Vernon. This is a threat. Would you like me to do that, Uncle Vernon? Can I explain to you what happened out there? Is that okay with you, Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon nodded and took a step back away from Harry. He gazed at the wand and wondered how something so small could be so dangerous.

"WHAT HAPPENED OUT THERE?"

"Please don't shout at me, Uncle Vernon," Harry said in the quietest voice, it more like a whisper, a ghostly whisper. "Do you really want to know what happened out there, Uncle Vernon?"

"What happened out there, Harry? Care to explain? Or are you going to try to worm yourself out of this one as well?" Uncle Vernon asked and glared at Harry.

"Me and Dudley were attacked by a pair of Dementors," Harry explained angrily and a couple of golden and fiery sparks shot out of the tip of his wand.

"You were attacked by a pair of what?" Uncle Vernon said and goggled at Harry. "What are these Disemembers?"

"They're not Disemembers, Uncle Vernon! They're called Dementors," Harry spoke clearly and already knew that his Uncle Vernon would struggle to understand what he was saying. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you, Uncle Vernon? Or do I need to explain to you with every syllable?"

"What do they do? What are they? Why are they here? Where are they from?"

"They from…" Harry was about to explain when he was rudely interrupted by Aunt Petunia.

"They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban," Aunt Petunia and then squealed when she realised what she had just said.

Harry turned his head around and at first thought he heard wrong. Did Aunt Petunia really say what he heard? Was this all a dream? He looked forward

"How the hell do you know that, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked and confusingly looked at the person that he thought would never say something like that. "Do you know more about the wizarding world than you're letting on? Jesus Christ!"

"Language, boy!" Uncle Vernon said threateningly and raised his hand. "Or you'll get another backhand!"

Harry ignored his Uncle's non-existent threat and felt his mouth opening in shock.

"How do you know that, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked and gazed directly at his Aunt Petunia.

Aunt Petunia stiffened and said felt shocked with herself and stared forward as a pale colour crept onto her face.

"Are you going to answer me, Aunt Petunia? Please! Why don't you just answer me?"

"I heard it from your mother, Harry," Aunt Petunia replied coldly and snorted disgustingly. "And it was some other boy, Harry."

"What boy are you talking about, Aunt Petunia?"

"I'm about talking about that horrible, smelly, lousy, disgusting boy!" Aunt Petunia hissed and felt her nostrils flare aggressively. "He told your mother about those creatures!"

"Are you talking about my father, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked and felt sickened that she would call his father something like that. "If you are, could you at least mention his name and not call him in a childish way.

Aunt Petunia said nothing and didn't answer him.

"How did you stop these, Disemembers? Did you get Dudley to knock them out?"

"No," Harry replied but didn't shout or retort in sarcastic tone. "You can't knock them out, Uncle Vernon. That would be impossible. It would be a death sentence to walk up to a Dementor

"I didn't see anything, Dad," Dudley whispered and absentmindedly gazed at his cousin. "All I saw was him with his wand out."

"The reason why Dudley thought it was me because he couldn't see anything, Uncle Vernon," Harry explained and realised that he wasn't getting anywhere with him. "Do you understand a word that I'm saying?"

"Why couldn't he see? Did he have his eyes closed?"

"No, his eyes were open, Uncle Vernon," Harry "Muggles can't see Dementors. Only wizards and witches can see Dementors."

"Don't you dare say those words in my home?" Uncle Vernon thundered and stood in the middle of the kitchen.

"Sorry," Harry apologised sarcastically and shook his head. "It's really hard to explain it without using the actual words."

"Do you know what they were doing here? Were they because of you or something else?"

"I don't know. I think he must've sent them," Harry said softly, it was quiet and was trying to speak to himself but didn't know that Uncle Vernon was listening to him.

"What's that? Who must have sent them? Who are you talking about, Harry?"

"I am talking about Lord Voldemort, Uncle Vernon," Harry said and the name slipped out of his name without hesitating.

Harry was pretty surprised when they didn't flinch, shout or scream loudly when he mentioned something that related to his world.

"Lord who?" Uncle Vernon asked and his face scrunched up like was trying his hardest to think about something. "I've heard that name before, Harry. He was the man who killed your…"

"Yes, he was the man who murdered my parents, that's him, Uncle Vernon," Harry said coldly and gazed forward without even blinking. "He was the man who murdered my parents."

"How has he come back? I thought he was gone," Uncle Vernon said quickly and didn't really care that the death of Harry's parents would be a saddening topic. "We were told by that big bloke, the man who knocked the door down."

"He's back? But I thought he said that he was gone," Uncle Vernon said and looked flummoxed

"That what's everyone thought, but now he's back and seeking revenge on me because of what happened last year," Harry said and then remembered how Cedric's Diggory died right in front of him.

"On you? What for? Why would he do something like that, Harry?"

"Uncle Vernon, Lord Voldemort doesn't care if I'm only a teenager, he's failed to kill me twice and he'll probably want to try again," Harry said and shuddered. "That's not counting when he tried to have Professor Quirrell and a Basilisk after me."

"What? Who's Professor Quirrell and what's a Basilisk?"

"I don't think that this is a time to explain who or what they are," Harry said quickly and was pretty surprised that his uncle hadn't shouted at him.

For Harry, it felt strange to be standing in the kitchen of the Dursley's household and talking about Lord Voldemort without being shouted at. Did they believe him? Were they finally going to accept him for who he was?

"Leave!" Uncle Vernon hissed and pointed toward the front door.

"What are you talking about? Leave? Leave what?"

"When I said leave, Harry, I meant the house and never come back," Uncle Vernon said and growled.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not leaving, Uncle Vernon? You'll have to force me to leave," Harry said and stood his ground.

Suddenly, the second owl zoomed down the chimney; swooping and screeching loudly as it came shooting out of the chimney faster than a person in a large cannon. Quickly, Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia screamed and dived for cover when the owl fluttered around in the kitchen. Harry stared at the fluttering owl and saw that it had a letter clamped tightly in its beak, but it was different to the other ones as it in a scarlet envelope, but it soared straight over his head, missing him and headed directly towards Aunt Petunia. The owl dropped the envelope into Aunt Petunia's lap. The owl ignored Aunt Petunia's shrills and flew back up the chimney. Without thinking straight, Aunt Petunia took the envelope from her lap and held it tightly in her trembling hands.

"Throw it way, Petunia!" Uncle Vernon ordered his wife and tried to grab it out of her hands.

"No, it's addressed to me; it's for me, Vernon!" Aunt Petunia said firmly and slapped her husband's hands away from the envelope.

"What do you mean it's addressed you? That's impossible! Are you sure that you didn't read it wrong, Petunia?" Uncle Vernon questioned and stroked his large moustache curiously. "Are you sure, Petunia?"

"Yes, I'm perfectly sure," Aunt Petunia said in a whispering tone. "It's addressed to me, Vernon. You think I'm not telling the truth, Vernon? Don't you? Look! It's addressed me. It says Mrs. Petunia Dursley, the Kitchen, Number Four, Privet Drive. How would they be exact?"

Shuddering, Aunt Petunia felt her breath catch violently in her throat; she gasped and looked down at the scarlet envelope. Shaking, her hands shook as the red envelope began to smoke.

"What's happening, Harry?" Aunt Petunia asked Harry. "Why is it doing that?"

"Why don't you just hurry up and open it!" Harry urged her and motioned toward the smoking envelope. "Hurry up! It's going to open anyway. The wizards call this a Howler."

"I don't want to open it, Harry," Aunt Petunia said and finally acknowledged her nephew.

"Did you not listen to a word that I just said, Aunt Petunia It's going to open anyway," Harry frustratingly said and curiously looked at the smouldering envelope.

Without speaking, Aunt Petunia's hand trembled when she gazed curiously down at the strange thing in her hand. She wanted to escape, she didn't know where to turn to and suddenly the envelope burst into bright flickering flames. The three Dursley's screamed when Aunt Petunia dropped it.

A cold voice echoed throughout the kitchen, it boomed like it was speaking through a Mega phone.

"Remember my last, Petunia."

The voice pierced throughout her mind and struck a nerve. She stumbled and sank onto the kitchen stool, a tear trickled down her cheek as she placed her face in her hands. When she looked up the, the remains of the envelope had smouldered into scattered ash. Was that Dumbledore's voice he had heard? What was Professor Dumbledore writing to Aunt Petunia? What did remember my last mean?"

Harry gazed at the smouldering ash and said nothing. What did that letter mean? Remember my last, Petunia? Had Aunt Petunia ever been in contact with Professor Dumbledore? Did it mean the last letter he had ever sent to?"

"What is this letter?" Uncle Vernon said nervously and glanced at the pile of smouldering ash. "What is it, Petunia? Who sent it? Where did it come from?"

Nobody said anything and once again the kitchen was swallowed by the sudden silence. Aunt Petunia said nothing, the voice still pierced her mind and she desperately wished to forget it. Dudley said nothing, swallowed and stared confusingly at his mother. His mouth stayed open like someone had told him something confusing or shocking.

The silence stayed there, it was a nerve-racking moment for Harry as he tried to figure out everything that had happened to him. His cousin had nearly lost his soul, he had been expelled from school and his wand was going to be snapped.

"Petunia? Is everything okay?" Uncle Vernon said and watched the frightened expression on his wife's face. "What did that letter mean?"

Aunt Petunia was still silent and she raised her head to look at her husband. She trembled and swallowed hard before saying something.

"We can't throw him out anymore, Vernon. He will have to stay no matter how much we hate him. I know for a fact that he didn't do this to Dudley. I heard my sister talking about Dementors, they are said to be the foulest creatures to ever grace the earth and that thing attacked our Dudley."

"Come again!" Harry retorted. Was Aunt Petunia actually sticking up for him? "Say what?"

"What did you say, Petunia?"

"I said that Harry will have to say," Aunt Petunia said clearly and got to her feet but wasn't looking at Harry or Dudley.

"Have you seen what this boy is capable of? Petunia?"

"I said no, Vernon," Petunia snapped and smoothed a hand down her cheek. Was she crying? "What the neighbours going to say if we suddenly decide to throw him onto the street with nowhere else to go and no money. "We'll have to keep him until he turns eighteen."

"Go to your room and stay there until further notice, Harry," Uncle Vernon breathed heavily and felt his head thumping beyond control.

Harry stood there and refused to move. He shook his head and glared at his Uncle Vernon.

"I want to know who that letter was from! Hey!" Harry protested and was pushed back by Uncle Vernon. "Hey! I have a right to know! Who sent that letter?"

"DID YOU NOT HEAR WHAT I JUST SAID? I SAID GO TO YOUR ROOM AND STAY THERE UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE!" Uncle Vernon screamed and motioned toward the staircase. "GO TO YOUR ROOM, HARRY!"

"I just want to know what the hell is going on here," Harry said and then walked away.

Stomping up the staircase, Harry's feet crashed onto the carpet as he stormed up into his bedroom. His trainers brought thick clumps of mud everywhere he went. The sound of his door slamming echoed throughout the quietening house.


	4. Late Birthday Deliveries

This is an AU story and the characters will be portrayed as how I want them. This story doesn't have a beta reader, so there might be a few spelling or grammar mistakes. If you find anything, please send me a private message and I will correct them in the future draft. Thank you! Thank you for the people who favourite and followed the story!

-Chapter Four-

-Late Birthday Deliveries-

With a loud slam, Harry had entered his bedroom and quickly closed the door behind him. He entered the smallest bedroom of Privet Drive, he was greeted by the coldness and it was due to the faulty radiator that Uncle Vernon had deliberately forgotten to fix. It reminded of the Dementor attack earlier this evening_. What were they doing here?_ His thought struck his mind at the precise moment; it was like an ice-pick embedding into his brain.

Harry stood in the middle of the bedroom and felt rather confused by everything that had happened to him. Was it Voldemort? Was it Lord Voldemort trying to get him expelled from Hogwarts? Or was it someone working for Lord Voldemort?

The wizard pondered those possibilities and finally let sink in. His heart hammered quickly, his head pounded and his knees wobbled. Harry's hands shook with the cold and his teeth chattered. The hairs on his neck stood up as he shuddered and gasped.

Harry furiously rubbed his hands together and never thought that he would be this cold. The wizard cursed and his breath filled the cold air of the bedroom. He was knocked out of his train of thought by Hedwig's hooting.

"Shut up, Hedwig," Harry hissed at the hooting owl. He knew that Hedwig never meant to annoy him but he just didn't care right now. "I'm sorry, Hedwig, I'm not angry at you. I'm just frustrated at the whole thing. It looks like we aren't going to get a chance to see Hogwarts anymore."

He was going to get his wand snapped and to be expelled from Hogwarts and never be allowed in the place that he calls home. Harry was lost and confused and he didn't even know if Hedwig, magic or Quidditch could comfort him anymore.

"Could you please be quiet for a couple of hours? Uncle Vernon isn't going to like your noises," he said and begged her. "Please, Hedwig."

Hedwig's hooting softened and silenced. She felt trapped in the small cage and desperately wanted to be out. Her large, round and amber eyes gazed at Harry but she didn't make a noise.

A heavy fog of mist had pressed itself his bedroom window. It was cold night and for Harry, it seemed as if the whole world was crumbling around him. He hardly had friends since Ron and Hermione had abandoned him. Hagrid was still his friend, but he needed friends his own age and someone to sit next to in class. Harry was still friends with the remaining Gryffindor Quidditch team.

He smiled at the thought of Quidditch and longed to feel the wind rippling through his hair as he flew one of his most prized possessions. He was a seeker, in fact, one of the youngest in the century. He sighed and looked at the broomstick resting against the wall, unable to use it.

His wand was useless now; soon, it would be confiscated and broken. He sighed and worried. He would never see Hogwarts again, he would never be able to use magic again and how would be able to defend himself against Lord Voldemort without a wand in his hand?

Harry was lonely but was rather confused that he hadn't got any letters from anyone. Did nobody love him anymore? His hungry stomach grumbled like running engine, it had been ages since he had eaten something. When did he even get the chance to eat something so tasty and filling?

The wizard groaned and sat down on the edge of the bed. He lay down and stared up at the paint peeled ceiling. How long would he be here for? How long would it be until they took him away? He stood in the middle of the small bedroom and tried to think positively. He knew that he couldn't sleep. How could he? His mind was baffled and confused.

Sweat dribbled down the nape of his neck, he used his sweaty palm to wipe it away. The bed creaked; the rusted bedsprings creaked every time he moved. His head pounded and his scar prickled like it had done before. He closed his eyes, an image of Hermione Granger and her cold, harsh voice that pricked every nerve. Why was she so mean? He pondered and couldn't grasp an answer. Once again, Hermione Granger slipped out of his mind; it was something that happened most nights.

Neville Longbottom was still his friend; it was the only friend that he could count on. Sometimes, Harry would find himself dreaming about a strange but good-natured blonde-headed girl. Did she mean something to him? He had never seen her before, but felt as if he connected with her. His brain tried to rack who the girl was but couldn't find a name for the pretty face. Harry found her blonde hair and dreamy voice attractive and cute. Who was that boy next to her?

He lay there and still never moved from his spot. Softly, rain pattered against the window and didn't stop. He stood up, scratched his head, coughed and wheezed. Opening the bedroom window, Harry thought it was best to run away and catch the Knight Bus again. Would it work? Should he go? Or should he stay in the house like Hagrid's letter had instructed him to do? Did he want to listen to Hagrid? He squinted and saw nothing. The only thing that he could see was Aunt Petunia's garden gnomes. Harry gazed at the large, circular and deep pond; he also looked at the colourful and exotic fishes.

It was just the start to the evening and Harry had a long night ahead of him. He leaned forward and out of the window, his elbows pressed against the windowsill. The cold air hit him, the wind rippled through his untidy hair and Harry gazed down at the enormous conservatory and could hear the faint noise of the television. He heard Dudley

His alarm clock displayed the time of twelve thirty in the morning. Why was he allowed to stay up that late? Was it because of the trauma? Did they really think that television would help? He laughed quietly and stood there. The teenage wizard saw a cat stretching on a rusted shed roof. Was it Professor McGonagall? His face glowed with excitement and a small smile came onto his exhausted face. It was just a normal cat, a normal and bland looking tabby cat.

The night sky was dark and quiet, and there was no sign of an owl or a Dementor. The wind howled like a screaming banshee that threatened someone. He stared down at the back garden of Privet Drive. It was dark and the grass rippled with the breeze. Harry knew that anything could be waiting out. Was Lord Voldemort waiting around the corner for him? He saw something in the night sky; it looked like a flying owl. An owl hooted quietly and soared majestically into the open bedroom, and its outstretched wings fluttered desperately as if it was struggling to fly.

"Who sent you?" Harry asked as the owl hooted quietly and landed onto the bed with a soft thud.

He reached out and stroked the owl with caution, afraid that it might peck him to death. He breathed a sigh of relief when it didn't. It nibbled on his dirty fingernail; it was a brown owl that had dark eyes the colour of crows. He stared at the magnolia envelope in the owl's beak and his eyes gazed at the brown package that was tied together with strings.

"Who is it from?" Harry asked himself and looked at the envelope and mysterious package.

He took the envelope and skimmed his finger against the smooth, soft and familiar envelope. He opened it with the letter opener and read it.

Dear Harry

I am sorry that your birthday present has been delayed; it was Professor Dumbledore's orders. I know for a fact that you won't have got much from your family. I can promise you Harry, Professor Dumbledore will be trying his hardest to make sure that you keep your wand and will be allowed to stay at Hogwarts.

Love From

Professor McGonagall

"What does she mean by Professor Dumbledore's orders?" Harry repeated to himself and held the letter in his shaking hand. "Why would Professor Dumbledore not want her to contact me?"

He pulled out the package from the owl's talons and suddenly all his anger had disappeared. His birthday had passed a few days ago, but he hadn't received any presents until now. Harry smiled and opened; he held the carved owl from Professor McGonagall and smiled softly. His finger smoothed down the smooth wood that had been handcrafted. Harry was amazed that Professor McGonagall was good with her hands.

"You better get back to Professor McGonagall before Uncle Vernon finds you in here," he said and gave the owl a Knut. He patted the owl before it flew away and disappeared into the night.

An hour later, Harry stood and gazed up at the darkening sky and watched the twinkling eyes. His bedroom window was cracked; the crack went from the bottom to the top. His big toe was numb; it poked through the large hole in his Quidditch socks. He felt his vision or dream slip through his fingers like grain until all he had left was a few fragments of grains.

To, Harry, the Muggle world was strange and now he knew that he didn't belong here. His brain was always switched on; it was like it was run by a generator that never seemed to switch off. He looked at his reflection and saw that his eyes were dull and blank and there were heavy, dark patches beneath his shimmering emerald eyes. He was dangerously overweight, it sometimes hurt to breathe and Harry could feel his ribcage every time he stretched.

He hardly ate, it was the fact that he wasn't allowed to eat. Sometimes, Harry had to eat scraps from the rubbish in order to stop himself from going hungry. He had been getting homemade cakes from an unknown person, a secret admirer, and Harry thought it was poisoned, so let Dudley try it first. With a loud sigh, Harry reached up to adjust his crooked and broken glasses, running his firm hand through his slick greasy hair in frustration. He glanced at the muted glow of the cheap digital alarm clock that lay beside his bed and told him it was about roughly after one clock in the morning. The wizard could never sleep all the way until the morning, before, Harry used to be able to sleep until about seven or eight clock.

The dream still lay heavy on his mind, it lingered like a smell that was too strong and wouldn't go away. It ran through his mind, he was on the Hogwarts Express with a girl and boy. He had never seen them before, but was the two people friends or enemies?

"Who are you?" he asked to himself, the whisper was quiet as he gazed out into the night sky. The girl in his dream was small, pretty; strange her laugh was so cute and it was like a heavenly laugh. "Who are you?"

He gazed forward and blinked rapidly.

"I wish somebody would come and help me!" Harry muttered under his breath. He waited, waited but nothing happened.

Harry only wished that it was this year that a Flying Ford Anglia was coming to save him. It wouldn't happen; Ron Weasley wasn't his friend anymore and refused to speak to him after last year. Hermione soon followed, like everyone else. Cho Chang refused to speak to him or answer his letters; she blamed him for the death of Cedric Diggory and refused to believe that Lord Voldemort was back. Nobody did believe him, he had been strange letters from some a year younger than him. Was it a secret admirer?

He was plagued by nightmares ever since he returned home; the flash of green light pierced his mind and it haunted him. Harry wished that he could disappear into the night and forget about everything. Harry had been confused at first; Lord Voldemort hadn't done anything since returning in July. The night was cold against Harry's cheek; his knuckles were pale and freezing. The blinds rattled and twisted. Would anyone recuse him?

His eyes were dull and expressionless, and there was no colour to his face. His birthday had passed without him even thinking about it. He was fifteen but didn't feel like it. The first week of the summer had passed with Harry feeling neglected and guilty. He was lost without the help of Ron and Hermione. Sirius Black, Mad-Eye-Moody and Remus Lupin had stopped writing the second week into the summer holidays. He was lonely, and only had the letters from no one and Hedwig to keep him company.

He tried to rack his brain but couldn't find a name. He felt stupid; his mind was blank and needed exercising. Harry needed to jog his memory. Had he spoken to the woman? It was definitely a woman by the way the letter reeked of perfume. The letter had baffled him and made him feel wary. Was it a Slytherin playing a prank on him? How'd they know where he lived? Or did someone actually have a crush on him?

Harry snorted and scoffed bitterly. When did anyone have a crush on the real him? All they saw was the wizard with the scar. He hated that lingering scar; it was a haunted memory, a pained past that made him remember what he had lost. His mother and father were gone, his friends were gone. He knew that Ginny Weasley only had a stupid celebrity crush on him and nothing more. He saw her as a friend or a sister that he always wanted.

Harry had stood in front of the window for almost two hours. The sound from the roaring television still could be heard. His hand pressed against the cracked windowsill, it was cold. He stared at the pair of bright headlights until they disappeared. He jumped; it was sound of a gunshot or an exhaust backfiring. Harry's hand went to his wand; it gripped it tightly as his eyes scanned the darkness and smiled when he saw nothing. Harry used one hand to wipe at his cheek, it was dampening with tears. The trembling wizard stood there, hand gripped his wand and the other gripped the edge of the cold windowsill.

He softly touched his bony neck and rubbed it. His fingers smoothly moved up and down his neck, touching the sweat on the nape on his neck. Softly, his fingers danced against his skin as he tried to rub the pain in his neck away. He craned his neck, the pain was still there.

Harry was screwed; he was more screwed than a zebra locked in a lion's cage at the zoo. He stood there, he was confused and frightened and the weariness tightly wrapped around him like a cloak or a robe he wore. It had been another lonely birthday for the boy wizard; another day had gone by where Harry hardly got anything.

Softly, Harry rubbed at his tired, red and puffy eyes. The teenager sulked and pouted. He walked around with guilt gnawing at his flesh like parasitic leaches, sucking the blood from him. He had found himself looking at the newspapers, Muggle newspapers. He either bought them or picked them up from the street. The Daily Mail was the only paper he didn't read, in fact, he despised it. He found nothing, nothing that mattered to him in any way shape or form.

The Daily Prophet was now a waste of time; all they seem to do was slander him and Professor Dumbledore. Were they really trying to hide the fact that Lord Voldemort was back? Did anyone believe him? Did they think that Cedric Diggory just dropped dead? They blamed him for Cedric's death; it was like he was the one that cast the spell at him. The morning was cold, dark and depressing again. The night sky was covered in dark, menacing and growing clouds.

Loud and booming footsteps appeared about a second later; Harry looked at the bedroom door and grimaced. A loud and heavy fist crashed against it, the door wobbled and shook as if it was frightened. The door creaked and was nearly flung clean off its hinges.

"Yes," Harry said as soon as the knock occurred. "Who is it? Is that you, Uncle Vernon?"

"It is the man who pays the bills," Uncle Vernon replied and knocked again. He laughed and unbolted the bedroom door.

"Very funny, Uncle Vernon," Harry said sarcastically and felt his jaw tighten. It hurt when he breathed and winced. "What do you want, Uncle Vernon? Have you come to tell me something?"

The bedroom door opened and Uncle Vernon's enormous frame managed to squeeze through the tiny gap. His large stomach was growing bigger by the month. Uncle Vernon had the stomach the size of Florida; it was tightly pressed against his horizontal striped jumper. He glanced at the letter and the carved owl. A scowl came onto his face before he could speak.

Uncle Vernon stood and rubbed his large neck. One of his large hands was curled into a fist, He stood there, his eyes scanned the bedroom, the window was open and Hedwig was hooting loudly. He watched as Harry collapsed on the bed and lay on his back.

"Will you shut that owl up?" Uncle Vernon roared and stormed to the front of the bed. His blue eyes feasted on the envelope and the carved owl. "Where did you get that letter from and that carved owl? Have you been sending message to your freak of a friend?"

"It's none of your business, Uncle Vernon," Harry said slyly and huffed. His back ached; he winced when he thought about him getting slammed into the fridge.

"Who is it from, Harry?"

"It is from someone who you don't know," Harry sat up on the bed. His knees were planted firmly against his chest. "Why should I tell you everything, Uncle Vernon?"

"Because I let you live in this house, Harry," Uncle Vernon said and glared at the annoying nephew. "I give you clothes, food and a bed to stay in!"

"You hardly do that anyway," Harry said dryly,

"Do I now?" Uncle Vernon replied sarcastically and grinned.

"What do you want, Uncle Vernon? Can't you see I'm busy?" Harry asked as soon as the large man stood in the middle of his bedroom. "Can I ask you a question? Are you ever going to fix that broken radiator?

"For you?" he sneered and a smile curled onto his face. "Is that something that you think I would do?

He looked at Uncle Vernon and swallowed hard. Harry bit his bottom lip and stopped himself from saying anything.

"So, you're just going to let me freeze in my own bedroom," Harry said and laughed coldly. He shuddered and draped a tattered blanket over him.

"What kind of person does that sound?"

"Sounds just like you," Harry said sarcastically and gritted his teeth.

"Mind your cheek, boy!"

The slap hit his cheek before Harry could do anything to react or defend himself. The large hand hit him again, it struck and it felt like a hot fire poker had pressed against his cheek.

"You're grounded for another week, and you're only allowed out for meal times and toilet breaks," Uncle Vernon said with a satisfied smile.

"Like that hasn't been done before," Harry said and touched his hand over his stinging and throbbing red cheek.

Uncle Vernon laughed, snarled and snorted as his mouth turned into a large sneer. He stood there felt his large and trimmed moustache wobble.

"Are you going to go crying to your precious headmaster, Harry?"

Harry scowled and shook his head. His scar prickled and he gritted his teeth. He rubbed his forehead, he half-listened to Uncle Vernon and thought about more pressing matters. He sat on the edge of the bed and felt as if he could cry himself to sleep. His body was numb and cold, he was freezing and Uncle Vernon's laughter pierced his mind.

"I've hardly got letters from anyone, and Professor Dumbledore has been ignoring me. So why would I go and cry to my precious headmaster, Uncle Vernon?"

Harry sat there and softly rubbed at his aching skin.

"I have to go to bed now, Harry. I've got to go to work in the morning," Uncle Vernon said with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "I have to work, unlike someone people in this house."

"Are you talking about Dudley and Aunt Petunia?" Harry said quickly and without thinking. The wizard smiled and laughed. "You really know how to make a teenager feel welcomed in this humble home!"

The lamp fizzled.

"Are you doing this, Harry?" Uncle Vernon asked and pointed at the lamp. He trembled and squeaked. "Are you doing magic in my house, Harry?"

"I'm not doing anything" Harry said softly and knew that there was no point in arguing with Uncle Vernon. "Why would you think that I was doing magic? It's not my fault that you've got faulty electricity."

Uncle Vernon walked out of the bedroom, closing the door and bolted it shut. His footsteps boomed down the landing. Harry lay back down on the bed and cried himself to sleep.


	5. A Secret Admirer

-Chapter Five-

-A Secret Admirer-

It was early in the morning, Harry was sat down at the breakfast table and his stomach grumbled hungrily as it had been so long since he last ate something. His mouth watered at the cooked English breakfast, but for the third day running, Harry wasn't allowed to eat. I front of him was a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, and it was the only thing that he was allowed to drink. He was hungry and underweight. His stomach was small, skinny and undeveloped. Harry's muscles had slowly disappeared, if he even stayed at Hogwarts, how was he going to compete in the Quidditch season when he has had no training at all?

He sat there and stared at Dudley's ugly pig like face, it was a disgusting looking thing. He hungrily watched as Dudley joyously shovelled his food into his mouth without even stopping for a breath. The knife and fork scratching and scraping against the breakfast plate pierced his mind and made his stomach grumble louder than before.

"I'm so hungry, Aunt Petunia," he whispered and his hands clutched at his grumbling stomach. "Can I not just have a slice of toast, Aunt Petunia?"

Aunt Petunia sat there and rubbed her bony neck with her pale hand. She held a saucer with rosebuds on it and drank her tea through her pursed lips. It wasn't hard to see, but Aunt Petunia looked like a horse that had been badly neglected. Her hair was a mess, it looked it hadn't been combed for the whole week. She turned her head and saw Harry gazing at her son.

"Stop staring, Harry! You're putting Dudley off his breakfast," Aunt Petunia shrieked at her nephew, sometimes she didn't even think he was that. To Aunt Petunia, Harry was the bad apple in the family.

Harry snorted and scoffed bitterly. He smiled when Aunt Petunia finally gave in and handed him a slice of burnt toast. He smothered the butter on it, it was thick, and didn't look very nice.

"How long have you had this butter, Aunt Petunia? Did you get it when Top Gun was out at the pictures?" Harry sarcastically commented and still gazed at Dudley

"I think you're still putting Dudley off his food by staring at him," Aunt Petunia said swiftly and sniffed.

"I don't think anyone or anything will be able to put Dudley off his food," Harry said dryly and sniffed. He sneezed and had just enough time to place his nose against his sleeve of his tattered pyjama top. "I think I'm coming down with the cold or flu."

"I wonder why," Aunt Petunia said and pondered thoughtfully. Her eyebrows rose to the crinkle in her forehead. "We're having such warm weather, Harry."

Her voice was too sickly for Harry; it was like she was trying her hardest to make him feel sick. The toast crunched in his mouth, it was rubbery and felt horrible as his sharp teeth crunched against the crumbling toast.

"Thanks for the toast," he said bitterly.

"Do you know why you are getting a cold, Harry," Aunt Petunia asked sweetly and smiled at Harry. "Have you seen the weather outside, Harry?"

Harry nodded his head and swallowed hard. He said nothing and sat there like a child getting told off at school. The marble topped kitchen counter was spotless and sparkling. Harry had lived in this house for fifteen years and had never seen the kitchen dirty. The floor had black laminated tiles.

"Maybe's it's because I don't have a working radiator in my bedroom. Do you know about that, Aunt Petunia?"

"We can't get that fixed because we don't have any money for that," Aunt Petunia said quickly and placed her empty saucer onto the breakfast table.

"You mean that you don't have any money for me," he said sadly and rubbed his mouth.

Dudley had a large bottom for a teenager of his age. His five chins wobbled as he giggled. His blonde hair was thickly combed into a bad Elvis hairstyle. The gel in his hair was thick; it looked like it had been there for a whole week. Dudley grinned and burped loudly, a piece of bacon dangled and wobbled from his chin. He smoothed his hand down his chin, touching his half-grown beard. Harry thought it was a pretty pathetic attempt at growing a beard.

Harry had started shaving regularly ever since returning home. He was growing up and maturing faster than he thought he would. His scar prickled, it had been prickling non-stop four about seven hours now. The teenage wizard sat there and still felt hungry, a sickly feeling was in his stomach every time he thought about eating or his stomach. He wasn't going to cry anymore, he wanted to stay strong for himself.

Dudley placed his knife and fork down onto the table; it was more like he slammed it down.

"Are you going to cry, Harry?" Dudley asked gleefully, his voice was loud and obnoxious. "Are you going to cry to your friends, Harry?"

Dudley sat there and knew that his cousin couldn't do magic anymore and gloated. A shit-eating grin came onto his face; it was something that Harry had seen so many times. He looked at Dudley's piggy and enormous face.

His wand was still in back pocket; it had left since the Dementor attack and Harry wished that he was allowed to use magic on his cousin.

"I wish I could give you a piggy tail like Hagrid did," Harry said and laughed. "Do you remember when that happened?"

"You can't do magic anymore, Harry," Dudley giggled and snorted very loudly. He grunted like a gutted pig. "You can't do anything to me and you can't threaten me with magic, Harry.

"That's true, Dudley," Harry said and gritted his teeth until his mouth ached. "I was wondering how long it was going to take for this family to figure it out. It took you since I was eleven years old to figure it out. Well done, Dudley? Do you want a cookie for that?"

Aunt Petunia could feel a strong headache coming on. She sighed deeply and refused to listen to any more of their constant bickering. Loudly, Aunt Petunia slapped her hand against the breakfast table and made the plate rattles.

"I want you to stop squabbling over the breakfast table," Dudley and Harry!" Aunt Petunia snapped and held her hand over her aching forehead. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you children?"

"Yes, Mum!" Dudley said and pouted like a spoilt child.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied and quietened himself. He grunted lowly in his throat when Dudley kicked him hard and fast in the leg.

Dudley sat there and crossed his arms. He sulked, pouted and whined. Harry could see another temper tantrum and looked around to see what Dudley could get a hold of to fling.

"Dudley," Aunt Petunia spoke in a firm tone that Harry had never seen her use to Dudley. Normally, it was a sweet, soft and caring voice. "I am warning you, whine once more time and I will send you up to your bedroom and tell you to stay there until tomorrow.

He squinted his eyes into narrowed slits and couldn't believe that Aunt Petunia was actually telling Dudley off. What had changed since yesterday? Harry felt confused and saw that Aunt Petunia was rubbing her stomach softly.

"Harry, when you've finished your breakfast, you can put the kettle on for me and Dudley and then you can go into your bedroom and stay there until you want to go to the toilet," Aunt Petunia said and took a sip from her cold and refreshing lemonade.

"I'm finished now, Aunt Petunia," Harry said swiftly and desperately wanted to be out of the kitchen. "Can I go now, Aunt Petunia?"

"Yes," she nodded her head and her horse and bony face looked back at him.

He knew that her face was studying him like he was an unfinished jigsaw. He felt her stone-cold glare gazed back him. He felt as if he had done something wrong, those green eyes were different to his mother's. They were cold, dark and it was like they had no life in them. Harry blinked and winced. The sighing wizard stood up, flicked the kettle on and quickly left the kitchen. The whirring of the kettle reached up to Harry as he quickly pounded up the staircase.

Harry stepped into his bedroom and saw another owl resting quietly on his bed. He raised a brow and quickly closed the door behind him. The owl was small; it was the colour of snow, just like Hedwig.

"Who sent you?" He asked and he knew that he was going to get an answer from an owl. "I hope it is someone like Neville, Dean or Seamus."

A letter was clamped tightly in its beak. The envelope was a maroon colour, something which Harry had never seen before. With a struggle, Harry grunted and tried to get the letter.

"Give it here! I'm Harry Potter, you stupid owl!" Harry hissed quietly and managed to yank the letter out from the snowy owl's beak. "I see you've brought me a present as well."

Harry stood at his bed and said nothing else. He poked at the box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and stared strangely at it. Who could've sent it? This time, Harry poked the box with his wand but nothing happened. He smiled; maybe it was just a nice gesture from someone who he didn't know. Who was it from? He pondered; it was a question that lay on his mind for more than a couple of minutes.

Harry hadn't realised it, but he had been standing in the middle of his bedroom talking to himself. The envelope was still in his hand and hadn't been opened. His fingers spread across the envelope, it was smooth and soft. It was the same smell of perfume as before; Harry knew that it was his secret admirer.

"Merlin's beard! I wish I wasn't well known!" Harry said and cursed as he paced around his bedroom. The floorboards creaked and a plume of dust flew up into the air every time Harry placed his foot down. He opened the letter and read it out loudly.

Dear Harry James Potter

I am deeply sorry that I didn't get you anything for your birthday, I wouldn't be surprised if your aunt and uncle didn't you get anything as well. As I have said, I am a year younger than you and I was sorted into Ravenclaw with Ginny Weasley. She's my best and only friend I've got. Sometimes, I'm quite lonely, I think about you and I wonder if we'll ever be friends. This is not me playing a nasty prank or bullying you, I know what bullying feels like and I wouldn't ever harm another person. I have been watching you from a far and I think that you are a handsome boy. I get a fuzzy feeling in my stomach every time I think about you. Please, could you write back so that I know you're getting these letters, Harry! I'm just a lonely person like you. I just want another friend. Harry, I really like you, I know you probably hear it a lot but I'm not just saying this because you are Harry Potter, I like you for what you've got deep inside you. Is it okay if I continue sending you letters and sweets? Ginny's been telling me what your aunt, uncle and cousin are like, I wish I could hex them all into oblivion but my Daddy always told me to use my magic against those who really deserve it.

Love From

LL

Harry snickered and looked at the initials. He didn't know anyone called and LL and didn't even know that Ginny had a friend in Ravenclaw. Was this girl lying? Who was LL? Was this a Slytherin playing a prank on him? The letter sounded genuine, but anyone could make themselves sound genuine if they tried their hardest. He took the feather quill and dipped it into the ink well.

"Thank you for this letter and sweets. I am glad that I am finally writing back to you, I did get all the letters that you have sent me and I'm sorry that I have not wrote back because I thought you were a Slytherin playing a prank on me. I would like to start a friendship with you; I would like to meet you if I ever get back to Hogwarts. Thank you for sending me these letters and encouraging me to carry on. I hope to see you at Hogwarts so that we can have an official friendship."

He had scribbled the note onto a piece of scrap parchment that he had managed to find. He sealed it into an envelope. Carefully, he gave the envelope to the owl as it tightly clamped the sealed envelope in its beak.

"Take this letter back to her," he said softly to the owl and gave it a knowing look. "Be careful out there!"

Harry watched and the owl fluttered. He watched the owl disappearing and then heard the sound of Dudley whining and thundering up the staircase. Dudley's door slammed shut and the whining continued.

"How does she know my full name?" he asked and stroked his hand underneath his chin. "Who in the Merlin is LL?"

He held the letter in his shaking hand. He reread and tried to understand it.

"What if this is Dobby's idea?" Harry mused to himself and then thought sprang into his mind.

A smile came onto his face. His scar prickled, his mind was full and Harry thought that Lord Voldemort was close by. He laughed and thought about Lord Voldemort hiding in Aunt Petunia's garden shed. Was he close? Was he angry? He touched his forehead, he now knew that he had a connection to Lord Voldemort, it was the way that his scar prickled and how Lord Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail weaved in and out of his dreams.

In his dreams, he dreamt about Lord Voldemort, a prophecy and the Department of Mysteries. He had only heard about one of those. He closed his eyes and fought against the thudding pain; he opened his eyes and expected to see Lord Voldemort standing in front of him. All he saw was a hooting owl, a large and wooden trunk and his broomstick.

"I don't think Dobby should come here," Harry said to himself and remembered the last time that he came to Privet Drive.

There was a faint popping noise as Dobby suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He gasped and landed softly onto the bedroom floor. He wobbled, sneezed and coughed. Dobby stood there and admiringly gazed up at his saviour.

"Harry Potter!" Dobby squealed quietly.

Harry gasped and jumped back.

"Dobby?" Harry croaked and gazed at the familiar creature. "What are you doing here? You nearly scared me half to death."

"I come to brung you your birthday present," Dobby said and giggled like a little girl. "I hope you is happy with it, Harry."

Dobby was a short House-Elf, he was about three foot and he wore a Christmas jumper that Harry had knitted him last year. He had his Gryffindor Quidditch socks on.

"I'm still wearing the Christmas jumper that you knitted for me," he said and showed his colourful socks to Harry. "Look! I've still got my socks on, Harry Potter!"

"Keep your voice down, Harry ordered and patted Dobby's wobbling head. "It's good to see you two, Dobby. Are you sending those letters? Are you playing a nasty prank on me, Dobby It's not funny and it isn't smart, Dobby."

Dobby gazed up at Harry and felt shocked. Tears welled up in his eyes.

"Don't cry, Dobby!" Harry said quietly and tried to soothe him. "It wasn't you, was it, Dobby?"

"No! Why would I do something like that?" Dobby asked and he peered at the letter in Harry's hand. "It's from a girl, Harry! Do I look like a girl to you?"

Harry snickered.

"How do you that, Dobby? Are you sure about that?" Harry asked and sounded confused.

"Dobby knows these things," Dobby said and gave Harry a weak smile. "It's good to see you, Harry Potter.

"It's good to see you, Dobby! It's nice to see a friendly face," Harry said and laughed when Dobby placed his head against his leg and sniffled. "How is it going at Hogwarts? Are you still cooking in the kitchen?

"It is always nice to see, Harry Potter as well," Dobby said quietly and giggled.

"Why don't you sit down on the bed, Dobby?"

Harry remembered the first time that he had asked Dobby to sit down and smiled fondly at that memory.

"Do you know what Professor Dumbledore is doing? Why he is ignoring me, Dobby?" Harry asked and his emerald eyes looked back into the enormous green eyes that were size of tennis balls.

Dobby shook his head. He looked down at his shuffling feet and whimpered.

"He told you not to tell me, didn't he, Dobby?" Harry asked as his eyes stared down at the quivering creature. "What has Professor Dumbledore said to you, Dobby? Has told you not to tell me if I asked you, Dobby?"

Dobby nodded his head and Harry growled. The small House-Elf looked up at Harry's reddening face, his nostrils flared like a raging rhinoceros and there was something about Harry that frightened Dobby to point that he trembled.

"Don't hurt me, Harry Potter! Dobby squeaked and heard the sudden rush of footsteps. He disappeared as the footsteps grew closer.

"Wait!" Harry whispered and cursed when Dobby disappeared. The door swung open and Dudley saw his cousin standing in the middle of his bedroom with his mouth wide open.

Dudley stood there and leaned against the broken door as it slowly swung open. It banged against the wall.

"Please don't lean on my door, Dudley, you'll make it come clean off its hinges," Harry said truthfully.

"Who are you talking to, Harry?" Dudley said and glared at his cousin. He had a pout on his face and it looked like he had been crying. "Are you talking to yourself, Harry? You'll get locked up for that."

"I wasn't talking to anyone, Dudley," Harry said to his cousin and grunted. "I want you to get out of my room, Dudley! You aren't so tough when you're not around your parents or friends, are you, Dudley?"

Dudley stood there and cracked his knuckles. He snarled.

"You can crack your knuckles all you want, Dudley," Harry spat with disgust.

"I see you've got another letter from those freaks that you call friends, Harry. I'm telling Mum, Harry!" Dudley whined and impatiently stamped his foot onto the ground.

The wardrobe shook when Dudley brought his foot crashing down on Harry's bedroom floor. He had an ugly looking scowl on his face, and it had deepened into a sneer.

"Tell her! Do you think I care?" Harry roared and made Dudley squeak in terror. "I see you're running to Mummy, aren't you, Dudley?"

Dudley stood there and blinked rapidly. He sniffled.

"What are you crying about, Dudley? Did your Mummy send you to your room for pissing her off?" Harry cursed and laughed coldly. "I see she's finally given you the punishment that you deserved.

"I haven't done anything wrong, Harry?" Dudley said and winced when Harry laughed loudly.

"You really think that you haven't done anything wrong, Dudley!" Harry exclaimed and shook his head. He found his cousin amusing sometimes. "How about constantly bullying

"You only saved me to protect yourself," Dudley said firmly and crossed his hands over his chest. His gut was large.

"You think I did that to protect myself?" Harry repeated. "Why would I need to do that? I saved you because I didn't want you to suffer a Dementor's Kiss. Do you want know what one of those feels like, Dudley? They suck your soul out; it is a fate worse than death."

The blind rattled and there was no window open.

"You're doing magic, Harry!" he whispered and pointed at the rattling blind. "You're not allowed to do magic, Harry."

"I'm already getting expelled and having my wand snapped, Dudley," Harry said and his eyes glowed with rage. "So why could I care if I was using a little magic."

"You can't use magic anymore, Dad and Mum will kick you onto the street," Dudley whimpered.

"Dudley!" Harry breathed and his eyes were dark. "Why don't you leave my bedroom before I blast you into oblivion?"

"You can't use magic, you're not allowed, Harry!" he said quietly, his voice was weak and numb with fear. "You'll get wrong from those freaks."

"Why don't you try me, Dudley?"

Dudley whimpered and scuttled out of the bedroom.

Harry glanced down at his shaking hand and clasped it with the other. The room had suddenly gone cold, like a large icy hand had curled into the bedroom. He moved and stood in front of his bedroom window, something told him that somebody was coming for him. His brain ached with all the thinking that he had done since the Dementor attack. His brain had never switched off, it was filled with constant worry, and the thought of being expelled or sentenced to Azkaban had overwhelmed his brain.

The panting wizard stood there and felt his scar aching again. He knew that Lord Voldemort was either happy or angry; it was like he knew that he was planning something. Harry shuddered; a raspy whisper came out of his voice as he tried to speak. His mind was pierced by images of a long corridor with a door at the end. He saw Lord Voldemort's pale and bald skull head flashing in his mind. He saw his wand, the wand that brought so much destruction to the world.

Harry also wondered if he ever would become like Lord Voldemort, or would his wand follow its brother? Was he like Lord Voldemort? Would he turn to murdering? He shook his head and pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, they were something that needed to be locked away and never to be seen again. He felt and calm and collected, the thoughts were simple and not so heavy on his mind. His thoughts returned to the pretty blonde-haired girl in his dream and the haggard looking boy who reminded him of Remus Lupin before his werewolf transformation. It was only a dream; dreams without Lord Voldemort hardly ever came true. His life in Privet Drive was a slow and boring time, his court hearing would be soon and his fate would be decided. Would he return to Hogwarts? He shuddered at the thought of Azkaban and the Dementors. He remembered the deathly look that Sirius Black, his godfather had when he first saw him.

He blinked rapidly. The sound of a loud lawnmower cut through his thought as if this was thin like paper. It echoed, it was Mr. Harrison, the noisy neighbour who seemed do nothing but make a nose. Harry had lost his train of thought, a door banged somewhere in the house and made him lose it again.

"I'll never get peace and quiet in the house," Harry said and flopped onto the bed. He heard Hedwig nibbling on her rusted cage, gently nipping it. "Are you hungry? I'll ask that secret admirer is she can get you treats, Hedwig. Do you want that, Hedwig?"

Her eyes seemed to say yes and Harry smiled brightly. His owl seemed happy, but why would it be? Harry thought and looked at her empty food bowl and rusted cage. He heard Uncle Vernon thundering up the staircase and prayed for the worst.


	6. The Advance Guard

Thank you all for those who have favoured and followed this story. I know many of you will be thinking that this is just me copying from Order of the Phoenix, but it is not and you will see when Harry arrives at school and Professor Umbridge will not be in this story, she will be replaced by a much harsher and stricter teacher.

-Chapter Six-

-The Advance Guard-

Harry spent the whole day in his bedroom and refused to come out, even for meals or toilet breaks. He had Aunt Petunia push the plate or bowl through the cat-flap that Uncle Vernon had built almost three years ago. He didn't like the food; it was mainly small Yorkshire Puddings, parsnips, roast potatoes and soggy vegetables and it was something that even a dog wouldn't eat. He didn't get a letter back from his secret admirer and felt saddened.

Hedwig's food bowl was empty again and she was fast asleep. He felt angry with himself that he couldn't look after his beloved owl despite how much she had done for him. He watched her sleeping quietly, and it was late in the evening as the glimmering moonlight shone into his bedroom.

He held the last letter in his hand and read it for the hundredth time. Was it a nasty Slytherin? He sat on the edge of the bed and listened to that thought as the rain pattered against the window. It had only rained for four days straight, the summer had finished and the wind was a bitterly one. His stomach grumbled loudly, he was hungry despite only eating two hours ago. His scar had finally stopped throbbing, it had only stopped yesterday but it gave the young wizard some peace and comfort.

A soft and small smile was there as he thought of his godfather. He remembered his haggard and dishevelled appearance, the look of death and fear were also in those lifeless grey eyes. He hadn't got a letter from his godfather since returning home.

"I should write to Sirius Black!" he exclaimed and shot up. His bed creaked and it felt as if a spring had popped came loose. "I should've thought about this before! Wake up, Hedwig!"

Harry barked and quickly walked over to the chest of drawers. Hedwig was sat patiently in her rusted cage and her eyes were wide open. She hooted softly. The wizard panted heavily, his mind was clouded with prejudgment as he gripped his feather quill tightly between his thumb and forefinger. Taking a scrap piece of parchment, Harry carelessly scribbled onto it and muttered as he did it. With a swift movement of his hand, Hedwig's latch to her cage was opened and she fluttered out as if she hadn't done it in weeks.

Without thinking, Harry sealed the small letter in an envelope and held it in his hand.

"Do you know how important this message is?" Harry asked Hedwig who then looked blankly back at him.

Harry's piercing emerald eyes stared back at the owl's amber coloured ones.

"You're going on a long journey, and you're going to need your strength for this one," he said and passed her a dead bird. "I've written a letter to Sirius Black. You do know who Sirius Black is, don't you, Hedwig?"

Harry looked into Hedwig's eyes and once again her eyes said yes. He placed the envelope in her beak as it clamped around her beak. The boy and his owl shared a moment; they gazed into each other's eyes as if to say that they understood each other.

"Take it, Hedwig!" he ordered and watched Hedwig soar majestically through the open bedroom window.

An hour had passed and Hedwig hadn't returned. Had something happened to her? Was she safe? Had a Death Eater kidnapped her? He panicked and bolted upright. Harry stood in front of the window and gazed out at the black sky, his eyes searched for a flying white owl but saw nothing.

"Dammit!" Harry hissed and banged his hand against the windowsill and could see the next door neighbour pottering around in the garden with a large torch. "What the hell is man doing with a torch?"

Harry gazed down at the garden below him and saw the old man walking into the garden shed with a handful of magazine. He turned away and moved from the window. The wizard paced the bedroom and was consumed with anger and guilt. He had been locked away from his world, shunned by those were supposed to be his friends. His godfather had forgotten about him.

The door unlocked and more again Harry prayed that it was someone coming to rescue him. His pray wasn't answered as Uncle Vernon stormed into the bedroom and was wearing an old tweed suit that looked it was bought in the forties. A smug looking grin was on Uncle Vernon's face as if he was the proudest man alive. The smell of aftershave and deodorant assaulted and burned Harry's nostrils.

"How much stuff have you sprayed on, Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked and violently coughed. "Are you trying to kill me with that stuff? What is it Brut or Old Spice, Uncle Vernon?"

"It is quality stuff, Harry," Uncle Vernon said to Harry.

"Are you going somewhere, Uncle Vernon?" he asked as he saw Uncle Vernon admiring himself in the broken mirror. "Have you been invited to another meeting, Uncle Vernon?"

Uncle Vernon stood and shook his head. He smoothed a comb through his untidy hair and adjusted.

"Where are you going?"

"Out somewhere you haven't been before," Uncle Vernon replied snidely. "This family has been chosen to take part in a Happy Family competition."

"Surely they must've picked this family by mistake," Harry said and was pretty pleased that Uncle Vernon hadn't picked up what he had said. "Is it far away?"

"Not that far away," Uncle Vernon said and tucked his shirt in. "It's in a small building called Happy Homes and it is in a place called Walton-On-Thames."

"I know where it is," Harry snapped. "I took Geography in school. I'm not stupid! Why don't you ask Dudley where it is?"

"Why do I need to tell him? When I can just show him?" Uncle Vernon said smugly and chuckled at his own joke.

"Was that supposed to be funny, Uncle Vernon or are you the only person laughing at that joke?"

"We're going out," Uncle Vernon said and smiled again. "I am going to walk out of this bedroom and lock the door behind me."

"You do that, Uncle Vernon," Harry said and glared at Uncle Vernon. "It's not like that you haven't done it before."

The air of the house was filled by the rushing of footsteps and the sound of a car speeding away from the driveway.

Hours had passed since Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley had left the house and Harry was once again feeling lonely and isolated. The boiler in the bathroom creaked and groaned. The pipes gurgled and banged and it reminded him of the ghoul in The Burrow. The house was unusually quiet, normally Harry would hear Dudley screaming and thundering up and down the staircase.

The hairs on Harry's neck stood up as he heard the kitchen window smash loudly. He stood up and pulled his wand out from the back pocket of his jeans. The crashing happened again as it sounded like there was a large group in the kitchen. His heart hammered and his breathing quickened to the point that he thought he was going to choke. He thought his mind was playing tricks with him, teasing him but then heard the sound of people coming up the staircase.

"Who's there?" Harry croaked and heard the loud and thundering footsteps. "Who are you?"

Harry's voice cracked when he heard the murmuring of hushed voices.

"I have a weapon and I'm not afraid to use."

He gripped his wand tightly and heard the footsteps from behind the door. He heard hushed voices, were they burglars? Burglars wouldn't make this much noise when they tried to rob a house. Harry thought it was a dark wizard. There was a soft whisper and the door unbolted and unlocked. The door opened and Harry automatically took a step back.

"Who are you?" Harry asked and saw a darkened and hooded figure standing at the doorway of his bedroom.

"I think you need to put your wand down before something happens," a familiar voice came to Harry and he blinked rapidly.

"Who are you?"

A bright lit came out of the wand's tip as the figure stood in the doorway. Harry shook his head and held his wand as he refused to put it down.

"Am I right in saying that you don't recognise your former professor, Harry Potter? The same man who helped you learn the Patronus Charm?"

Remus Lupin smiled as he strode into the bedroom. He stood there and wore a green blazer with faded leather patches. It was an old suit that looked like something that Uncle Vernon would wear.

"Professor Lupin? What are you doing here?"

The werewolf looked haggard and had a haunted look on his thirty five year old face. He had a light brown with small patches of grey strands and Harry knew that was down to his Lycanthropy. He had green eyes; it was the color of leaves twisting on tree branches. He looked glum, gaunt and dangerously underweight.

"Are you feeling okay, Professor Lupin? You seem unwell?"

"I don't think I'm a Professor Lupin anymore, Harry? You remember that year, don't you, Harry?" Remus said and smiled softly. "I've been better. It was a full moon a couple of nights ago."

"I remember that, Professor Lupin," Harry replied sadly. "What are you doing here, Professor Lupin?"

"Why do you think I'm here, Harry? We've come to take you away from this house. Are you ready?"

"What do you mean by we've come to take me away? Who else is here, Professor Lupin? Is Sirius here?

"That would be an unwise move, Harry," Remus said sadly. "He's someplace safe and far away from the ministry officials."

"What has Professor Dumbledore told you?"

"We can't say anything, Harry," Remus said and stiffened when Harry glared at him. It was glare that reminded him of Lilly Potter. "I've seen that glare before, Harry.

Harry stood there and felt as if his questions weren't being answered.

"Is there something going on, Lupin? Are you catching up with the student that you used to teach?" a gruff and low sounding voice came from behind Remus.

It was a face that he thought he would never lay his eyes on. Mad-Eye moody had a monstrous looking face that had been scarred injuries. Harry was always unnerved by the magical moving eye, the dark blue eye gazed back at him and he remembered what man had took his identity last year. Mad-Eye Moody had a limp, it wasn't a huge one but it was noticeable. His eyes twirled around and rested on Harry's glum and skinny looking face.

"Professor Moody? What are you doing here?"

Mad-Eye Moody snorted and snarled like a viscous creature. His large and blue eye span around again as he scanned the bedroom that seemed so small. It was small, untidy, cold and dark. Mad-Eye Moody felt the coldness, and his large and thick cloak wasn't enough to keep him warm.

"How can I be Professor Moody when technically I didn't teach at Hogwarts last year?" Mad-Eye Moody said and his magical blue eye span around. "I think I was somewhere else when that happened.

Harry gave Mad-Eye Moody a warm smile but said nothing.

"Are you here to recuse me as well?"

"Am I going to stand in the landing or into his bedroom?" an unknown female voice was heard behind Remus Lupin and Mad-Eye Moody. "Aren't ya going to introduce me, Lupin? I've been dying to meet him ever since I was a little girl.

"Who is that?" Harry asked and still his held his wand tightly. "Is she crazy, Remus?"

Remus smiled and it tugged at the corner or his mouth.

"Harry, this is Nymphadora Tonks," Remus said and chuckled quietly. "I just hope that she hasn't heard you."

"Nymphadora Tonks? Harry repeated and squinted when a curvy and good-looking woman.

"Nymphadora Tonks? I've never seen you before," Harry said.

Nymphadora Tonks was a pretty looking thing. She had a heart-shaped face and she also had dark twinkling eyes.

"Please don't say that name again, Harry Potter!"

"Why not, Nymphadora? It's your name, isn't it, Nymphadora?"

She glared at him and blushed. Quickly, Nymphadora's hair went the color of bright bubblegum pink.

"It's the worst name that a mother can give her own child, her own flesh and blood, Harry," Nymphadora said.

"How do we know if it's him, Lupin?" Mad-Eye asked and stared at the boy in front of him. "I don't think we've asked him a question that only the real Harry Potter would know. Why don't you ask him a question, Lupin? He could be a Death Eater."

"Harry, what form does your Patronus take?" Remus asked and studied the expression on Harry's face. "Why don't you just answer it honestly, Harry?"

"It has always been a Stag, Professor Lupin," Harry said and nervously stammered. "It is like my father's Animagus form, Professor Lupin. I think you know all about that though, don't you, Professor Lupin?"

Remus nodded his head curtly and smiled.

"He does look like James, doesn't he, Remus?" Mad-Eye Moody and Nymphadora asked at the same time.

"He has Lilly's eyes and I'm sure that Harry doesn't feel comfortable that we're gawping at him like a couple of school girls," Remus said teasingly and smiled warmly at Harry.

"Why are you here, Professor Lupin? Who sent you? Did Professor Dumbledore send you? I need some answers."

"Why don't we go downstairs, Harry? Remus said and motioned toward the bedroom door. "I can see that the atmosphere is getting a bit tense."

Harry was the last to follow the three wizards down the staircase. He reluctantly walked down the stairs and passed the picture frame that held the photos of the smiling Dursley Family. He heard a group of wizards and witches talking quietly in the kitchen. He breathed heavily and followed everyone into the cramped kitchen.

"Who is he?" Harry asked as he saw a dark gentlemen standing there. "Who is he, Mad-Eye Moody?"

"This is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Harry," Mad-Eye Moody grunted and nodded his head in the direction of the smiling wizard. "He looks after your Prime Minster."

Kingsley Shacklebolt was a tall and dark-skinned wizard that had a golden hoop earring in his right ear.

"I am Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr. Potter," he spoke in a deep and low voice. Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice reminded him of Samuel. L. Jackson. "We're here to rescue you and take you somewhere safe, Mr. Potter."

"I can see that, but why now?" Harry snapped and Dedalus Diggle squeaked as he dropped the glass and took a step back.

There was a loud shattering noise as the filled glass of water crashed loudly to the ground.

"Dedalus Diggle!" Remus hissed from the other side of the kitchen. "We're trying to make ourselves as quiet as possible.

"Reparo!" Nymphadora muttered and repaired the broken glass. "I wish you would be more careful.

Kingsley gave a Nymphadora a knowing smile and laughed loudly.

"You can talk, Tonks," Kingsley chortled and smoothed his hand across the marble kitchen counter. "I've heard you clattering around in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place."

Nymphadora blushed and her hair changed color again.

"You dare mention that building out in open air!" Mad-Eye Moody hissed and held onto his walking stick. "You dare!"

"We're hardly in open air, are we, Mad-Eye?" Kingsley taunted Mad-Eye Moody with a twinkle in his eye. "We're safe and you know it."

Remus sniggered but said nothing. His hair was messy and looked like a comb hadn't seen it for at least a month.

"Never mind that, Kingsley!" Mad-Eye Moody quickly hissed and his magical eye glanced nervously around the room. "There could be Death Eaters lurking inside this house. Have you thought about that? Lupin?""

"Are you exaggerating about this too much, Mad-Eye?" Remus said and silenced himself when he saw Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye gazing back at him.

"I don't think there are Death Eaters lurking inside this house. They must've disguised themselves as pot plants. I see one! He's right over there! Hello Antonin Dolohov!"

"This is no time for one of your jokes, Remus!" Mad-Eye Moody hissed and tutted disapprovingly.

"Is it a tough crowd, Remus?" Kingsley said and laughed.

"Why are you here? You could've come straight after the Dementor attack/" Harry said and he still had a tight hold of his wand. "Why don't you any of you care to explain what is going on? Are you going to leave me in the dark like you have this past month?"

"We couldn't tell you because of Professor Dumbledore's orders!" Remus raised his voice as he could see that Harry was about to throw a temper tantrum. It was the same with his father.

"I'm sick to death of hearing about Professor Dumbledore's orders!" Harry shouted, it wasn't a loud shout but it was enough for everyone to remain quiet. "When are you going to tell me what has happened these past couple of weeks? Are you going to tell me? Are you going to tell me what Grimmauld Place is? Are you going to tell me what Lord Voldemort is planning?"

A hissing noise came from nearly everyone apart from Remus and Mad-Eye Moody, Harry ignored and continued his rant. He tried his best to pace himself, but the crowd in the kitchen made it very difficult. He felt as if he was in an airless chamber that there was no way that he could escape from.

"Why are you all frightened? It's just your name that doesn't mean anything!" Harry spluttered and golden sparks shot out of his wand. "I want to know what is going on and what is happening with Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Answer me!"

"I think he has Lilly's temper," Elphias Doge commented and sniggered. "I'm Elphias Doge, Harry Potter. We've never met before but I am glad we've had."

Elphias Doge was a small, old and withered man with a hunchback. He held tightly onto his walking stick, the palm of his hand was slippery with sweat and slid against the golden handle.

"I need a drink of water," Harry said and massaged his throat. "Excuse me!"

Harry squeezed past the large group of wizards and witches that had formed in the kitchen. He bumped into the shoulders of a woman and immediately apologized.

"Sorry!" Harry said and realized that he didn't know who he was talking to. "Who are you by the way?"

"I'm Emmeline Vance, Harry Potter," she said and squeaked. "It's a pleasure!"

Emmeline Vance was a tall and slender woman with graceful shoulders.

"Nice to meet you," he said and moved to the kitchen sink. He didn't know when the last time the kitchen had been so full. "Who are those two over there, Emmeline? I haven't seen those before as well!"

"That's Hestia Jones and Sturgis Podmore, they're really nice people, Harry," Emmeline said and smiled as they waved back at her.

"Do you know what is going on with Professor Dumbledore? Why has he been ignoring me?

Emmeline Vance was about to answer but was interrupted when Mad-Eye Moody banged his stick down onto the kitchen floor.

"I'll have to talk to you later, Harry," Emmeline said and smiled softly. Harry groaned when he watched her slowly walk away like she was taunting him.

"Listen up everyone! Lupin and Tonks, you will go back up to Harry's bedroom and pack his stuff because I know that will take him forever," Mad-Eye Moody barked an order as Remus and Nymphadora quickly scuttled upstairs and cursed silently.

Harry moved and roughly banged into the kitchen counter.

"What was that?" Mad-Eye Moody shouted and pointed his wand directly

"I just bashed into the kitchen counter," Harry explained himself. "Merlin!"

"I think that you're paranoid and could get us all exposed if you don't stop jumping at every little boom and bang," Emmeline replied and huffed. "We're trying to be as quiet as possible. Do you want He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to know that we're transporting the boy who he seeks to kill? Do you know how many lives would be lost if suddenly down on us?"

"I doubt that Lord Voldemort is going to swoop down on Little Whinging, Surrey," Harry said nervously glanced around at the darkened kitchen. "I don't think that there is anybody watching us, Mad-Eye Moody. Do you think that we should leave now, Mad-Eye Moody?"

"I think we better leave now," Mad-Eye Moody grunted and slowly nodded his head.

"We'll move and stay in formation, we don't want anyone killed," he said to everyone as each wizard and witch began walking out of the kitchen.

"Killed, Mad-Eye Moody?" Who do you think is planning to kill us?" Hestia Jones asked as she stood in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Death Eaters!" Mad-Eye Moody roared and his eyes span around faster than before. "How do you know who is watching us, Hestia?"

"I just know that Lord Voldemort won't come here," Hestia said and disappointedly huffed.

"We can't take a single risk with that boy! He is our only hope," Mad-Eye Moody grunted and sharply pointed at Harry. "Without him, this whole plan is a complete failure.

"Hope? Hope for what?"

Harry gazed around the kitchen saw and that nobody was answering his question.

"Aren't you going to answer my question? What do you mean that I am the only hope?"

"What do you think, Harry?" Nymphadora said and walked into the kitchen. "You must know that you're the only person that can defeat Lord Voldemort."

Harry looked and saw his school trunk magically floating behind Nymphadora and Remus. Remus walked behind Nymphadora as if he was being pulled by an invisible chord. The werewolf spoke and whispered into her ear, and he held tightly onto one of the most expensive brooms ever made. Remus only imagined what James Potter would be like if he had one of those in his hand.

"Right, Harry! It looks like we've got everything that we need; I think we should leave this ghastly home."

Harry nodded and followed the large group outside. Harry stood at the driveway of Number Four, Privet Drive and gazed up at the night. It was nothing but pitch-black darkness; a dark cloud had formed and swallowed the night sky.

"I see you've got a Firebolt, Harry," Mad-Eye Moody said and critically judged the broom in front of him. "That's nice, Harry! That's very nice!"

"Yes," Harry said and smiled fondly at the memory when he first received it. "I got it in my third year."

"Sirius Black gave it to him, caused Harry some trouble that year," Remus said quietly and smiled. "You'll see him soon, Harry!"

"Will I, Professor Lupin? Do you know where he is, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked excitingly and grinned. "Will I see him soon, Mad-Eye Moody?"

"We all know where Sirius Black is, Harry," Mad-Eye Moody replied gruffly and jumped when a cat meowed loudly. His wand pointed straight underneath a car as a small and frightened cat scuttled underneath it.

"It's just a cute kitty, Mad-Eye Moody," Emmeline Vance teased Mad-Eye Moody and laughed quietly.

"It could've been a Death Eater disguised as a cat! What do you think about, Vance?"

"I'll never win with you, Mad-Eye Moody. You'll be the death of me one of these days."

"Let's get going!" Remus said and held his hand against his forehead. "We need to hurry if we want to get there as fast as possible."

Mad-Eye Moody was the first to mount his hovering broomstick. He gripped it tightly and kicked his foot against the ground.

"Right! Let's get moving! Go! Mount your brooms and go!"

Harry did as he was told and never looked back. The Firebolt quickly rose up and shot into the air before anyone could do anything. He looked down and had never realized how small Privet Drive actually was. He saw Aunt Petunia's garden shed disappearing as flew higher and higher into the sky. The boy wizard turned his head and saw Nymphadora flying bedside him, she smiled warmly and titled her head back. He looked into her glimmering eyes and watched as the moonlight shone.

"HARRY YOU NEED TO FOLLOW MAD-EYE MOODY OR LUPIN!" Nymphadora screamed as the wind whipped against her face.

Harry nodded his head and gazed around at the scene below him. He had never flown a broomstick over a Muggle neighborhood. He knew that Muggles weren't accustomed to witches, wizards and flying broomsticks. Within a second, a dome-shaped web spat out of Professor Lupin's wand and curled around the flying pack of wizards and witches.

The flying wizard felt a cold trickling sensation like someone had dumped a bucketful of cold water over his head. He shuddered and gasped when he looked down at his body and broomstick. They were both invisible and it was like he was flying on air. His hand gripped the handle of his broomstick as he steered himself to the right, avoiding a flock of flying birds. The wind was loud and his black hair rippled every time it blew against him.

"HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO GET THERE, TONKS?" Harry screamed to be heard over the roaring wind.

"What did you say, Harry?" Nymphadora screamed and turned her head to look at Harry's face.

"I SAID HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE TO GET THERE, TONKS!" Harry shouted and his voice was once again drowned out by the sound of the wind and the robes flapping erratically from behind him.

"What? I can't hear you, Harry? What did you say?" Nymphadora shouted back at Harry, her head was titled and she glanced over her shoulder. "Why don't you tell me when we land?"

Harry turned his broom and followed the pack of flying wizards and witches. He had never felt so alive, the adrenaline rushed through him and he felt like he was on a rollercoaster. He flew over the primary and junior school that he attended. They swooped down and Harry followed. They flew further down as the rain pattered heavily against Harry's head. His eyes watered and his body was frozen to his broomstick.

They had moved further down until they were flying directly above the River Thames and Harry saw the beautiful water rippling beneath him. It was like a vampire staring at its own reflection, he saw nothing. There was a plopping noise as a fish jumped out of the water and back into it. Harry flew back up and followed everyone, they zigzagged across the sky. The pack passed a building that Harry knew as the Houses of Parliament.

"DESCEND!" Harry heard Mad-Eye Moody shouted from the front of the pack as they reached a neighborhood with tall and old brick buildings.

Softly and slowly, Harry descended and loosened his grip around the handle of his broomstick. His heart stopped hammering as fast as it did, his scar hadn't prickled and he was feeling quite good with himself. Harry landed softly and let his worn trainers hit the ground.

"We're, Harry," Professor Lupin said and landed quietly next to Harry. The dome-shaped web fizzled away and let Harry feeling warm again.

Harry stood there and felt rather confused. He didn't know where they were, he was dumbfounded when he looked up to a neglected building. He saw a metal and rusted fire escape that was about to collapse. Why was this building so important? Harry stood there and held his broomstick, it dangled at his side as his eyes scanned the building in front of him and tried to find what everyone else was looking for.

The buildings looked like they had been broken into many times before, the windows were shattered and some were boarded up.

"Hang on a minute! I can't see anything, Professor Lupin," Harry whined and gazed up at normal building that he could've found on any normal Muggle street. "Where is it? What are you looking at?"

Professor Lupin smiled slowly and his mouth twitched. He stood to the side of Harry and found himself standing in the middle of an unkempt square that looked like it had been abandoned. The werewolf looked up and saw an advertisement for Wonderbra. His attention was caught by a leggy blonde who was posing seductively. Professor Lupin recognised her as Eva Herzigová. Nymphadora walked past, carrying Harry's school trunk and snorted.

"Don't look at those, Lupin?" Mad-Eye Moody chortled. "Your eyes will burn out.

He turned around and saw that Harry was gazing around and was looking quite clueless.

"I want you to have this, Harry," Mad-Eye Moody grunted and thrust a piece of thin parchment towards Harry's shaking hand. He held it underneath the flickering streetlight. "Read it and quickly memorise, Harry."

Nodding his head, Harry looked down at the piece of paper in front of him and readjusted his glasses. The handwriting was tiny, faint and was vaguely familiar. It said: The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

What was the Order of the Phoenix and who owned it? Was it Dumbledore? Harry thought as he gazed up at the building, Harry could see Number, Nine, Ten, Eleven and then Number Thirteen quite clearly. He shook his head and looked to Professor Lupin for help.

"Hey! I can't see anything, Professor Lupin? I can't see Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, and Professor Lupin, how am I going to get into it if I can't see what I'm supposed to look at?"

"I want you to think carefully about Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and nothing else, Harry," Professor Lupin said softly to Harry and touched him on the shoulder. "Why don't you clear your mind and push everything else to the back of your brain. Can you do that for me, Harry?"

"I will try, Professor Lupin," Harry stammered and gazed up at the building. He could hear a television blaring loudly from one of the living rooms. A disgusting smell assaulted his nostrils; it was the smell of old and decaying rubbish like it hadn't been taken care of. "This place stinks, Professor Lupin!"

"Can you do that for me, Harry?" Professor Lupin asked and gazed forward. He smiled when he found what he was looking for.

He furiously nodded his head. His thoughts and memories were pushed into the back of his mind as he concentrated his hardest. His eyes narrowed, his scar tingled slightly but he ignored it. Harry gazed up at the building and there was a large rumbling sound as the building block began to expand without anyone in the other buildings noticing. Brick by brick, Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place came out of the darkness and revealed itself to all the wizards and witches.

Harry saw the door, it was a large and oak door, and it had a slithering serpent on the front of the door and Harry knew that it must've belonged to someone in Slytherin or someone who had fascination with snakes.

"Where are we, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked and glanced around. He saw that he was in a part of London that he had never been. "What is the Order of the Phoenix, Mad-Eye Moody?"

Without hesitating, Mad-Eye Moody rapped the end of his wand hard against the back of Harry's head. Harry yelped, and his hand touched his head as he let out a strained cry.

"Ow! What did you do that for, Mad-Eye Moody?" I only asked a question," Harry thundered and rubbed his head. "I only asked what the Order of the Phoenix was."

"Shush!" Mad-Eye Moody said moodily and rapped the wand against Harry's head for the second time. "Do you want to give our position away, Harry?"

Mad-Eye Moody's blue eye gazed around and saw nothing what he would class as suspicious. Satisfied, Mad-Eye Moody walked and left Harry and Professor Lupin standing next to each other.

"You need to be quiet, Harry. We don't know who is watching or who has been following us since we left the house," Remus said and pushed Harry away from Mad-Eye Moody's waving wand. "I want you to take your wand out of your back pocket; we're not out the dark, Harry."

The youngest wizard took his wand from his back pocket and looked around. He saw nothing that alarmed him, but he knew that he must be on his guard at all times. Harry and Remus walked and talked about Quidditch and Muggle movies, Harry was quite confused that a wizard knew so much about Muggle movies.

"My favourite movie would have to be The Godfather," Professor Lupin said and walked across the pavement. "Have you seen it, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry said and nodded his head. "The second was is good, but the third is not the greatest one that was made."

"True," Professor Lupin admitted and sniggered. "Let's get going, everyone's waiting for us."

Harry nodded his head, the doorknob twisted and creaked. Harry was the last one to enter Number, Twelve, Grimmauld Place and heard the door crash loudly behind him. Suddenly, Harry was greeted by nothing but pitch-black darkness and as he moved, he swore that he could feel something brushing against his backside.

"I can't see anything, Professor Lupin," Harry said and stumbled forward. "I think something has just touched me, Professor Lupin!"

"I know," Professor Lupin said and he sniggered when he kept Harry close him. "Don't touch the walls."

"Why?" Harry asked as they walked down to what appeared to be a long corridor that stretched forever and forever.

"They'll swallow you, Harry," Professor Lupin said and held his wand out in front of him. "Lumos!"

The corridor was lit up by a blinding light and Harry saw how long the corridor actually was. Figures in pictures followed him with, a hissing noise like a snake soon followed him and Professor Lupin. He saw that familiar green and sliver colour that had haunted him since school. It was the Slytherin Crest; he was in a house that supported those nasty, cheating, dirty and lying snakes. He felt worried and in enemy's territory. They had reached the bottom when a door opened and was came out of the room.

Mrs. Longbottom was a tall, old and bony looking thing that looked as if he was about to shrivel up and die. She wore a tattered coat that looked older than her. Her hat was a stuffed vulture.

"Harry Potter!" Mrs. Longbottom exclaimed and stood at the end of the corridor. "You look different to the last time that I saw you. Have those nasty Dursley's been feeding you, Harry?"

"Do you really think that they would want to waste on someone who they consider to below a family pet," Harry spat in disgust and snarled.

"Hello, Remus!" Mrs. Longbottom said and kissed Professor Lupin on the cheek. "I haven't seen you in a long time. Are you looking after Harry, okay, Remus?"

"Yes," Professor Lupin said and patted Harry on the shoulder. "Is everyone in the meeting?"

"That's correct," Mrs. Longbottom said and her eyes shifted nervously back to where the door was. "You can go in, Remus.

Harry stood there and he could hear loud voices. Was that Sirius he heard? He stood there as Professor Lupin passed him.

"What about me, Mrs. Longbottom. Am I not going in the meeting? What do you expect me to do?"

"I'm sorry, Harry," Mrs. Longbottom said and looked at the hurt expression on Harry's face "This meeting is for the adults only, Harry. My grandson is in his bedroom at the top of the stairs; his bedroom has a small snake on it. He will fill you in on the things that you've missed."

"But!" Harry protested but Mrs. Longbottom held the palm of her hand and stopped Harry from protesting. "That' not fair, Mrs. Longbottom! I think I've got a right to know what is going on."

"No, Harry," Professor Lupin said firmly and popped his head out from the kitchen. He pointed at the staircase as Mrs. Longbottom turned around and followed him into the kitchen. "Go upstairs, Harry and I don't want to see you sneaking around this place. It's not a friendly place to those in the Gryffindor House."

Harry groaned and began following the spiralling staircase. He stomped his foot on every step, he was angry at everyone who had left him in the dark

"What are you doing sneaking around here?" a cold voice came from the shadows.

"Who are you?" Harry asked and stared into the shadow. He saw a pair of scary eyes staring back at him. "I don't think we've met before."

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you? The creature hissed loudly when he spoke that name. "You're the Boy-Who-Lived? I'm Kreacher, the House-Elf."

"Nice to meet you, Kreacher," he said pleasantly and inched forward.

Kreacher backed away and let out a yelp that could've awoken anyone in hearing range.

"Spare me your pleasantries, Harry Potter," Kreacher spat and snarled. "You're a filthy Half-Blood that shouldn't even be welcomed in this house. Leave now!"

He passed a large and closed curtain and was sure that he could hear snoring or heavy breathing behind it. He walked and walked, it was like it was going to take forever to reach the top. He gasped and panted as his feet repeatedly crashed against the worn carpet of the staircase. Harry smiled as he reached the top of the staircase and stopped at the bedroom door.


	7. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place

-Chapter Seven-

-Number Twelve Grimmauld Place-

Harry stood in front of the closed bedroom and panted heavily. The sweat dribbled down the nape of his neck and he used his dirty palm to wipe it away. He stared at the snake and cursed silently. Without thinking, Harry moved forward and gripped the rusted doorknob and it creaked as it turned. He opened the bedroom door and it nearly flung itself off the hinges.

He walked into a large and unwelcoming bedroom. It was cold and dark; it was a bedroom that he would never want to sleep in. He stepped further and could see a large outline of a person underneath a quilt cover. Was it Neville?

"Hello," he said and whispered. "Neville? Is that you, Neville?"

"Who's there?" a young boy squeaked. His shaking hand reached for the lamp and pulled the chord.

Neville Longbottom was still the round-headed and plump boy that he remembered. He had his Quidditch pyjamas on. He had his Chudley Cannons orange socks on. He sat on the edge of the bed gazed up at his best friend's tired face. He yawned loudly; he hardly ever stopped due to the walking up and down the stairs and the ghastly screaming.

"Harry?" Neville Longbottom screamed and rushed over from where he was lying. "I thought that I could hear someone coming up the staircase. I thought it was that nasty Kreacher!"

Harry shook his head and hissed at that name.

"I've just had the pleasant time in talking to that wonderful gentleman," Harry said sarcastically. "He stood in the shadows, I could see his eyes but he made it perfectly clear that he doesn't like me or Half-Bloods. Why is he like that? Is it because his masters?"

Neville slowly looked up at Harry's face and saw that there was a seething expression on it. He swallowed hard; it was like he was waiting for Harry's rant but it never came. He waited and waited, but nothing happened.

"You've already met him, Harry?" Neville asked and sat down on the edge of his bed. "What do you think he is like? I think he's an ungrateful and nasty piece of work, and he's always snooping around, that's why sometimes I have to lock this bedroom from the inside."

"Why is that, Neville?" Harry asked and gazed around at the bedroom. It looked like it belonged to a former Slytherin.

Harry saw green and sliver Slytherin scarf pinned against the wall. Harry potter stood in front of a photograph and looked at the dark-haired man as it reminded him of a younger version of Sirius. Was this Sirius's home? Was that his brother? He looked around and remembered that Sirius told him that he had younger brother who was in Slytherin.

"Why do you have to lock the door behind you, Neville?"

"He likes to steal things that aren't his; bastard nearly took my wand while I slept!" Neville hissed and flopped onto his bed. He stared up at the ceiling and hummed.

But couldn't he just Apperate inside your bedroom, Neville?" Harry curiously asked Neville and heard footsteps.

"No," Neville said and smiled. "The house has charms placed around, nobody can Apperate in our out. "It's pretty neat, isn't it, Harry?"

Harry stood in the bedroom and fell silent. He thought he saw the mirror sneeze. His stomach grumbled loudly and he had hardly eaten all week had started starve himself. He breathed and there was sharp intake and he groaned.

"How's your summer been, apart from the Dementor attack? Have you done anything nice, Harry?" Neville asked carefully and he fiddled with his tattered quilt cover.

Harry gazed at his best friend and scoffed him underneath his breath. The Chosen One furiously scowled at Neville, he sighed, it was like Neville hadn't thought about what he was going to say. Harry still had his wand in his hand; he hadn't put it away and didn't feel like doing it.

"What do you think?" Harry snapped and shook his head. He couldn't believe that Neville was asking. "Do you honestly think I've had a good summer, Neville? I've been stuck at the Dursley's ever since school finished, when you've been here and getting in on the action."

"It hasn't been that interesting, Harry, I can tell you that," Neville said and forced a nervous laugh to come out of his mouth. "I've been in this bedroom since the start of the summer; my grandmother's been in and out of the meetings with the Order of Phoenix. It's been really boring; Harry, and sometimes I wish I was in Professor Snape's Potions class."

"Have you seen Hedwig, Neville?" Harry asked and saw that his trunk appeared in the room just as he thought about her. "I sent her to give a letter to Sirius."

"Are you worried about her, Harry? Maybe she got lost, Harry? She'll come back around and you know it," Neville said and tried his hardest to soothe his best friend.

"You really think that? She should've been here, Neville. What if a Death Eater had caught her?"

"She'll be okay, Harry," Neville said and looked down at the Daily Prophet. "Have you heard what the Daily Prophet has been saying about you and Professor Dumbledore?

"I think it will be something that I wouldn't like to hear. Who lived in this bedroom, Neville? Harry asked and his eyes slowly gazed to the Slytherin Crest.

"The whole family was in Slytherin," Neville said and shuddered loudly. "They were all dark wizards and believe that Lord Voldemort was stronger than Professor Dumbledore. Kreacher's always talking about his family and wish that they were here instead of Sirius."

"Really?" Harry said and felt sickened when he stood in the house that followed Lord Voldemort. "Sirius is here? Where is he? Professor Lupin and your grandmother told me that I couldn't go into any of the meetings. I need to know what is going on."

"Welcome to my world, Harry. I've been here forever and I still haven't found out what is going on," Neville said and pouted. "I hate being kept in the dark about these types of things. I overheard that they are thinking that Lord Voldemort is going to overtake the Ministry of Magic."

"You really think that Lord Voldemort will overtake the Ministry of Magic?"

"He's already got Death Eaters working inside the Ministry of Magic, Harry," Neville said and pushed an open text book onto the floor. "There's Lucius Malfoy, Yaxley, Wadlen Macnair and Thorfinn Rowle."

"Is there anymore, Neville?"

Neville nodded his head.

"Elliot Young!"

"Who is Elliot Young?"

"He was a Death Eater in the First Wizarding War, Harry. He's a nasty piece of work and said that he was Imperiused," Neville said and snorted.

"Didn't they all say that?" Harry spat. "Where is everyone else, Neville? The house seems pretty quiet.

"They're in the meeting with the Order of the Phoenix," Neville explained. He slowly spun a ball of yarn onto the bedside table and looked tired. "Ginny's been trying to sneak into meetings since she got here."

"Ginny? She's here, Neville? Harry croaked and the pretty redhead came into his mind and hit it like a heavy sword. "Is the rest of the Weasley Family here?"

"The only person who isn't here and that's Ron," Neville said and watched his best friend wince at that name. "He and Hermione are on holiday since they've become boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Ron and Hermione have become couple, Neville?" Harry repeated to himself and looked toward Neville for the answer. "When did that happen?"

Neville nodded his head and casually shrugged his shoulder.

"I don't even know when it happened. They don't even talk to mow now, Harry," Neville said sadly and shook his head. "Ron's always been rude, Harry, but Hermione has changed and she's ignoring me since Ron and her became a couple over the summer. They're sightseeing in America."

"You didn't even get me a birthday present or a card, Neville?" I thought you were my best friend," Harry said and bitterly bit his tongue. "I thought you would've gotten me something. Did you forget, Neville?"

"I was trying to get you something without Professor Dumbledore knowing, Harry," Neville said and defended himself.

"What do you mean by that, Neville?"

"Professor Dumbledore told me not send you anything!" Neville squeaked and tried his best to avoid Harry's flaring temper. "What was I supposed to do, Harry? I had my grandmother and Professor Dumbledore watching me like a hawk!"

"You should've tried harder and sent me something!" Harry thundered, sparks flew out of his wand as Neville's toad jumped out of his hand."

"Stop it! You're upsetting Trevor, Harry!"

"I don't care about how you're stupid toad, Neville!" Harry spat and paced angrily around the bedroom.

The door creaked open and Harry stood in silence. His glare was harsh and cold, he stared at the doorway of the bedroom and there was a girl. Ginny Weasley was a pretty girl with the hair colour of flaming embers and she wore a knitted Ravenclaw jumper that her mother had knitted.

"I thought I could hear your voice, Harry," Ginny said sweetly and smiled at her former crush. "Hello, Harry. How are you?"

"I think he sounds frustrated," Neville said. "He keeps shouting at me, Ginny."

"You shouldn't keep shouting at my boyfriend, Harry," Ginny said sternly and smiled tenderly at her beaming boyfriend. "What did he ever do to you, Harry?"

She passed Harry, bent down and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. The colour of ripe tomato came onto Neville's face as Ginny kissed him again."

"Quit gaping like a fish out of water, Harry!"

Harry stood there and his eyes were large and wide.

"Neville's your boyfriend, Ginny?" Harry stammered nervously and looked from Ginny to Neville. "Neville's your boyfriend, Ginny? Does your Mrs. Weasley know that you're dating Neville Longbottom?"

"She does, Harry," Ginny said and laughed. "It took her a while to get used to the fact that her daughter was growing up."

"What's your father saying about it?"

"He's actually pretty mellow about it, Harry," Ginny said and had a mischievous smile on her face. "He was the one that convinced Mom to let it drop."

"I've been better," Harry said and took a seat on the edge of the bed. He took a bite out of the Chocolate Frog and swallowed a mouthful. "How have you been Ginny?"

"I've been okay; Harry but Ron and Hermione have been driving up the wall!" she complained and stamped her foot onto the bedroom floor.

"How are they driving you up the wall? What have they done now, Ginny?"

"They refuse to talk to me unless I stop talking to you, Harry," Ginny said and made noise like a banshee. "I stood my ground and firmly told them that you're my friend and I won't stop talking to you. I believe you, and I know that Lord Voldemort is back. I can feel it.

"How can you feel it, Ginny?" Harry asked and looked completely perplexed.

"I don't know, Harry, it's hard to explain but I can feel him inside of me," she said and nervously fidgeted. "I think it was when I was possessed by him, you remember that, Harry?"

"When you were possessed in your first year, Ginny?" What's that got to do with anything?" Harry asked and had reached for another Chocolate Frog. "I thought Lord Voldemort's memory died, Ginny? How can it still possess you?"

Ginny said nothing and bit her trembling lip.

"Hey! Those are my Chocolate Frogs, Harry! Why don't you get your own?" Neville asked and slapped Harry's hand away from the stack of Chocolate Frog.

"I'll call it a late birthday present, Neville," Harry said dryly. "I see you forgot as well, Ginny. I'm glad I did get some presents."

"Who did you get presents from, Harry?" she asked.

"I got carved owl from Professor McGonagall and some sweets from a secret admirer," Harry said and smiled when he remembered the letter. "I've been getting a letter since I left school."

"You've got a secret admirer, Harry? Who is it? Is it someone I know?"

"Ginny, I think that's why it's called a secret admirer," Harry said and Ginny furiously blushed. She teasingly stuck her tongue out. "She didn't really say much about herself, she didn't even tell me her name. I still think it's a Slytherin playing a nasty prank on me. Who would be attracted to someone like me?"

"I know a few people that are attracted to you. What do you know about her?"

"I only know that she was sorted into Ravenclaw with you, she said you're her best and only friend, Ginny. Do you know who it is, Ginny?"

She nodded and smiled warmly.

"It could be Luna Lovegood," Ginny said and shrugged his shoulders. She began mocking him in a high-pitched mocking sign-song voice. "Luna fancies you, Harry."

"Who is Luna Lovegood, Ginny?" Harry asked and sat on the edge of the bed. His head titled up, and he thought that he heard muffled screaming.

"Luna Lovegood's a very decent person, Harry; I mean she's quite batty but she's good fun. I think that you should two hook up on the Hogwarts Express. You'll make the cutest Hogwarts couple, apart from me and Neville.

She smiled at her boyfriend and winked at him.

"What if I don't want a girlfriend or a secret admirer, Ginny? What if I just want to be normal and stress free, Ginny?"

"I don't think stress free comes in your life," Ginny teased him.

"You got that right, Ginny," Harry said and smiled. "I think I might go snooping around with the old invisibility cloak. Do you reckon that anyone will find me?"

"I think Mad-Eye Moody will probably find you," Ginny said. "He found me hiding underneath the table in the drawing room."

"What were you doing there, Ginny? I thought you were a good girl that didn't go sneaking around," Harry teased his friend and grinned.

"I wasn't doing anything, Harry? What kind of girl do you take me for?"

"A troublesome one, Ginny," Neville piped up after sitting in silence.

"Ginny? Who else have you seen here?"

"Professor Snape," she spat as Harry's eyes widened. "I've seen him! He's so scary, Harry! I don't like him despite he saved you when Professor Quirrell jinxed your broom."

Harry felt confused and sickened. His stomach felt as if it was about to empty its content all over the floor.

"What? They let him be a member of the Order of the Phoenix? Are they mad?" Harry thundered and felt neglected. "Why would they let a person who loves the Dark Arts into the Order of the Phoenix? I wouldn't be surprised if Professor Snape was working for Lord Voldemort himself. He's a filthy Snake, Ginny! Everyone can see it apart from the Slytherins and Professor Dumbledore. What kind of a man is Professor Dumbledore?"

"Professor Dumbledore must trust him enough to let him into the Order of the Phoenix," Ginny said and placed her hands onto her slender hips.

"He's probably snitching to Lord Voldemort and kissing his bare feet! I can't believe it! Right! I'm going downstairs, Ginny and Neville. I will talk to you later!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Harry," Ginny called after Harry as he took the Invisibility Cloak from his trunk.

Harry carefully tiptoed down the staircase and quietly crept past a muttering Kreacher who was holding a photograph close to his chest. There were no candles lit on the dark staircase as he passed a row of shrunken heads that were mounted on plaques. He took one step at time, and a cloud of dust blew into the air every time his foot hit the next step. He turned as soon as he reached the bottom and began walking toward the kitchen.

"Stupid thing!" Harry muttered and continued walking forward.

"I knew that I would find you sneaking around here, Potter!" Mad-Eye Moody said softly and gripped Harry by his shoulder. "I hope that you weren't trying to spy on the meeting, Harry."

"How did you know where I was, Mad-Eye Moody?" Harry asked and still remained underneath his Invisibility Cloak.

"My magical eye can see through an Invisibility Cloak, Harry," Mad-Eye Moody said and chuckled. "Your father was the same and still would be the same if he was still alive today.

"How am I the same as my father?"

"Your father was like that when he was an Auror, Harry," Mad-Eye Moody said and laughed. "He used to take that infuriating cloak everywhere he went to, and tried to sneak past me a number of times."

"Did it work, Mad-Eye Moody?"

Mad-Eye Moody grinned a large and crooked smile as he laughed loudly.

"It failed every time but I admired him for keep trying even though he knew that it would eventually fail," Mad-Eye Moody said and lifted the t

"It failed every time but I admired him for keep trying even though he knew that he would eventually fail," "Why are sneaking around, Harry? Do you know dangerous this house can be? We've removed some of the dark charms, but there are still that are here."

"I want to know what is going on with Lord Voldemort," Harry said firmly and took his invisibility cloak off.

"It's not fair, Mad-Eye Moody! You get to know and you weren't even there when he came back! I was there and watched Cedric Diggory die!"

"I get to know because am I a member of the Order of the Phoenix and you aren't," Mad-Eye Moody said sternly and his blue eye stared forward before spinning madly around. "You're not and you're just a young boy who is still at school. You are seriously testing my patience, Harry."

"Am I?" Harry said sarcastically and glared at Mad-Eye Moody.

"Go to bed!"

Later that morning, Harry woke up in the morning and it had just passed half ten. He awoke and was pretty glad that he didn't have Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon screaming at him. He was greeted by a blurry darkness and realized that someone had taken his glasses off while he slept. He looked over to Neville's bed and saw that he wasn't him. He had slept in his clothes and it wasn't the first time that it had happened.

He stood up, rubbed his eyes, stretched and walked out of the quiet bedroom. The whole house was quiet, it was peaceful and Harry had the best sleep in a couple of months.

"Sirius wants to see you in the drawing room," Nymphadora said and pointed at the door with the rusted and sliver doorknocker. "Go in!"

Sirius Black stood in the enormous drawing room and still didn't look any healthy. He still had a gauntly look that reflected his imprisonment in Azkaban.

"Sirius?" Harry cried and rushed over to his godfather. He threw his arms around him and brought him into a rib-crunching hug. "I've missed you!"

"I've missed you as well, Harry," he said and patted his godson on the top of his head.

"I know that you couldn't," he said and whispered.

"Why are you here, Sirius? Why have you been living here?"

"Hasn't nobody told you, Harry?" he asked and watched him shake his head. "This is where I grew up.

"This is your family home, Sirius?" Harry said and gazed around. He never thought that Sirius would've lived in a place that supported Lord Voldemort. "The Black Family lived here? Did Kreacher live here as well?"

Sirius nodded his head.

"I know, I think I'm one of the few people related to the Blacks who have gone in a different house than Slytherin. Why don't we leave that riveting story for another night? I bet you're quite hungry; Mrs. Weasley is in the kitchen and is making a spot of breakfast. She hasn't seen you since last year. Come on! Let's get out of this drawing room; I don't like spending a long time in one room. I hope that you haven't been disturbed by the screaming.

"What screaming?"

"That's the answer that I was looking for," Sirius said and smiled as and walked out of the drawing room. "Why don't we grab a bite to eat, Harry? I don't know about you but I'm starving."

Harry followed Sirius despite being confused. He followed his godfather and didn't even know how to start another conversation.


	8. The Order Of The Phoenix

-Chapter Eight-

-The Order Of Phoenix-

* * *

Harry slowly entered the kitchen and it was another room that was neglected and dirty. It was the gloomiest room that he had ever been in; a large kitchen table was slapped bang in the middle of the room and was filled with white and sparkling breakfast plates. It was a cavernous room, a room that would've easily fitted another three or four rooms inside of it. The table was full of wizards of wizards, some young and old. Harry looked as if he was the only one who had decent night sleep.

He stood behind his godfather and glanced around the large kitchen. Harry stood there and looked at the roaring fireplace and knew that it was the only thing that brought warmth and colour to the dark and bare kitchen. He had a feeling that the kitchen cupboards would be bare and full of cobwebs. The curious wizard felt as if he didn't want to talk to anyone as they had ignored him and had forgotten about him.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley squealed when she saw him standing behind Sirius. "It's great to see you! You haven't changed have you, Harry?"

"It's only been a month or less," Harry said and his eyes stared back at her. "Where's Percy?"

A smile came to Mr and Mrs. Weasley's face when their third oldest child was mentioned. Mrs. Weasley stood there and had her hands rested on her large hips. Mrs. Weasley was an oldish woman with a plump figure. Her flaming red hair was frazzled and looked as wild as a jungle. It looked like a comb would be dangerous to it.

"He's working early at the Ministry of Magic, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said and grinned. "I'm so proud of my child!"

Sirius moved away as Mrs. Weasley hugged and lifted his small frame off the ground. She could tell that he was dangerously underweight just by touching and lifting him up. Quickly, Harry's feet were immediately taken off the kitchen floor and placed softly back down.

"You're getting slightly bigger," she said and teased him. "I think you might need some new robes for this year, Harry. We'll get all that when we go to Diagon Ally."

"That's if I ever go back to school," he said with a hint of disappointment lingering in his voice.

"You will, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said confidently. "Professor Dumbledore is trying to work something out with Fudge."

"Like that's going to do anything, Mrs. Weasley," Harry spat and wallowed in his own guilt. "Do you honestly think that Fudge will listen to Professor Dumbledore? Do you know what he has said in the Daily Prophet?"

Harry stood there and heard bacon sizzling loudly in the frying pan and it made his stomach grumble. The boy wizard looked around at the large table and saw Ginny and Neville gazing up at him.

"Had a good sleep, Harry?" Professor Lupin asked and looked up from where he was sitting. His mousey brown hair was messy. "You're the last person to get up."

"It was okay," Harry said and shrugged his shoulders in response. "I've had better, Professor Lupin."

"Harry, I've got something to tell you," Professor Lupin said and leaned forward.

"What is it? Is it something important? Is it about Lord Voldemort, Professor Lupin?"

"I'm coming back to Hogwarts, he said and giggled.

"Are you going back as The Defence against the Dark Arts Teacher?" Harry asked and gazed at his favourite teacher.

Pure excitement filled in Harry's green eyes. Professor Lupin shook his head and watched the smile fade from Harry's face.

"I'm going back as an assistant to Professor Dumbledore," Professor Lupin said with a warm smile on his face.

"I thought you weren't allowed back because of your werewolf problem," Harry said with a curious glance around the room. "What does everyone think about this, Professor Lupin?"

"It has been changed, Harry," Professor Lupin said and smiled at Harry. It was a smile that nobody had seen for ages. "I can't wait!"

Harry beamed at his mentor and felt his stomach grumbling loudly when the smell of sizzling bacon reached over to him. Harry jumped when Sirius appeared behind him.

"Why don't you go and sit down next to Mr. Weasley, Harry," Sirius said and pointed to where a balding man sat.

"Hi, Harry," Mr. Weasley said and vigorously shook Harry's hand as if he hadn't seen him in a while.

"I'm doing okay, Mr. Weasley," Harry said and yawned when he took the last vacant seat. "Are you okay, Mr. Weasley?"

"I've been better, Harry."

"Where are Fred and George, Mr. Weasley?" he asked as he couldn't see the two red-headed twins in the kitchen.

"They're sightseeing in London with their new girlfriends," Mr. Weasley said and grinned. "I think they're up to no good, but what can I do, Harry?"

Mrs. Weasley stood in front of the frying pan and glanced over her shoulder.

"Are you hungry, Harry? Would you like a cooked breakfast or beans on toast?" Mrs. Weasley stood next to the old-fashioned stove.

His mouth watered at the thought of a cooked breakfast and his stomach grumbled. The choice was the easiest one.

"I'll think I'll go for the cooked breakfast," Mrs. Weasley. Thank you!" he politely said as his stomach grumbled when the smell of other people's food slowly wafted over to him.

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked and then continued speaking when he heard Mr. Weasley grunt in response. "Do you know why Professor Dumbledore has been ignoring me?"

Mr. Weasley shook his head and didn't know to answer the question.

"I haven't been speaking to Professor Dumbledore much, Harry," Mr. Weasley said and lit a brown pipe.

"I didn't know you smoked, Mr. Weasley!" Harry gasped and looked shocked as Mr. Weasley puffed on a pipe. "I'm surprised that Mrs. Weasley has allowed you to smoke in the kitchen.

"There are a lot of things that you don't know about me, Harry!"

"Like what?"

"That's a story for another time, Harry," Mrs. Weasley and took the pipe out of his mouth.

"What is everyone doing here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, Harry? I bet you've got no information since you've been cooped up in the Dursley's house.

He glanced around at all the unfamiliar faces as he drove his fork into his Cumberland sausage. He lifted it up to his mouth and bit into it.

"I want to know what Lord Voldemort is doing. Does anyone know what Lord Voldemort has done since returning?" Harry asked loudly and then he heard a clatter of a glass and plate from behind him. "Is everyone still frightened to say his name?"

"You weren't around when he was fully in power, Harry. We lost everyone that we loved and held close to us," Sirius said as he took a buttered bread bun from the kitchen counter.

"We're not having this conversation in front of Harry," Mrs. Weasley said and held a large chopping knife in her hand.

"What? I have a right to know, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said and fought against his rising temper.

"You can't tell Harry what he can or can't do, Mrs. Weasley," Sirius said as he took his seat down next to the youngest of the Weasley family. Ginny was sitting next to her boyfriend. "You're not his mother, Mrs. Weasley."

"And you're not his father," Mrs. Weasley spat back with so much venom in her voice.

"I perfectly know that I'm not James, Mrs. Weasley. How stupid do you think I am?" Sirius said coldly as he glared at the flustered housewife.

"Are you saying that Lord Voldemort is trying to overtake the Ministry? How could he even pull off something like that?"

"We don't know," Sirius said and looked around at all the glum faces. "We believe that he may try to kill Fudge by the end of the year."

Mrs. Weasley slammed the chopping knife against the chopping board.

"That's enough! I don't want Neville or Ginny to hear any more of this. They're too young and they don't understand what is going on. She wasn't even born when he was around."

"But, Mom!" Ginny whined and slapped the palm of her hand against the table. "Why should I go away? I want to know what is going on, Mom!"

"Do you really want to be grounded until you go back to school?" Mrs. Weasley threatened and it wasn't an idle threat. "Go back to your room!"

Ginny muttered something that made Mrs. Weasley raise her eyebrow. Neville quickly followed the fiery red-headed out of the kitchen.

"We believe that Lord Voldemort is either planning to take something from the Ministry of magic, we don't know what it is yet."

"What else do you think he is doing, Sirius?"

"We think that he wants to make sure that Fudge doesn't last another term, and he might want to become Minster himself.

"That's absurd! How can Lord Voldemort just walk into the Ministry of Magic without anyone seeing him?" Harry asked stupidly.

"He's not going to do it by himself, is he, Harry?" Sirius said and smiled. "He's going to get his Death Eaters who work for the Ministry.

"How sure are you that this is going to happen?"

"We're about ninety five percent sure that this is going to happen, Harry," Professor Lupin said and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "If the Ministry is taken over, I don't know how safe Hogwarts is going to be."

"Professor Dumbledore is there!" Harry protested.

"Harry, Professor Dumbledore is one man and Lord Voldemort is a monster who is fuelled by power and revenge. Do you think that Professor Dumbledore can keep innocent children and teachers away from something like that? How many children do you think has Death Eaters as parents? Hogwarts will not be a safe place.

"I want to join the Order of the Phoenix!" he said. "I want to join and fight against Lord Voldemort! I want to do something!"

"That's not going to happen, Harry, I know how much you want to kill Lord Voldemort but the Order of the Phoenix is and has only allowed over the age wizards," Sirius said and informed the pouting teenager.

"Why not? That's not fair, Sirius?" Harry complained and stuffed his mouth full of bacon. "Why shouldn't I be allowed? My parents were killed by Lord Voldemort and I saw Cedric Diggory die!"

"It's not us who makes the rules but Professor Dumbledore," Professor Lupin said. "He's the one who formed the group."

Harry felt full even though he hadn't finished breakfast and his appetite was gone.

"May I be excused, Sirius?" he asked his godfather and pushed his breakfast plate away from. "I think I've had enough to eat for one morning."

He didn't wait for anyone answering; Harry stood up, turned and hurried out of the kitchen as everyone sat in silence.

Harry stepped into his bedroom and saw that Fleur Delacour was sat down on the edge of his bed and her long, slender and bare legs hung over the edge. Her silvery blonde hair flowed gracefully down her slender shoulders. She wore a white buttoned blouse and a black skirt. Harry wanted to know what she was doing on the edge of his bed. She looked so beautiful and it nearly took his breath away.

"Fleur?" Harry stammered when he looked at that beautiful face. "Hedwig? When did you get here? When did she get here, Fleur?"

"Arry," she said in a throaty voice that made men tremble. "Eet 'as been too long! She was ere when I came into your room."

"Fleur," Harry said and was pretty surprised and pleased when Fleur suddenly stood up and flung her arms around him. "I didn't think I was going to see you so soon. What are you doing in England, Fleur?"

"I'm ere because I've got a job, Arry!" she said proudly and smiled at the younger boy.

"You've got a job, Fleur? Where is your job?"

"Gringotts Wizarding Bank," she said happily and smiled at Harry. Harry could see something was troubling her. "I'm really enjoying it, Arry and ze people are so nice."

"How did you get that?"

"Bill Weasley," Fleur said and almost spat in disgust.

"You don't seem pleased that you're working with him, Fleur. What has he done to you?"

She looked cross and that fiery look spread across her face. Harry could sense that her anger was bubbling but he never said anything.

"Because e keeps flirting wiz me, Arry!" Fleur complained and made that familiar hissing noise. "E keeps touching me, Arry?"

"Why don't you complain about it, Fleur?"

"I can't do anyzing about it, Arry! I've already complained and zey said zat zair wasn't enough evidence to process my complaint," Fleur said and sniffled quietly. "E's ruining my life!"

"That's absolutely ridiculous!" Harry said and felt shocked. "I don't think anyone should work in a place where they feel threatened."

They sat on the bed. Fleur's head was softly placed on Harry's shoulder and he enjoyed it being there.

"I can't sleep at night because I zink zat he will do somezing. What am I going to do, Arry? Do you zink zat I'm useless?"

"I would never think that, Fleur," he said and cupped her cheek. "You're a wonderful, caring and beautiful person, Fleur.

"You zink so, Arry?" she asked and lifted her head from her shoulders. Her beautiful and dark blue eyes were clouded distress.

"I know so, Fleur," Harry said and smiled reassuringly at her. "What are your plans for tonight, Fleur? I was just wondering if you would like to go sightseeing around London with me. We could go on the London Eye. It might help you take your mind off Bill Weasley."

"That does sound like a good idea, Harry," Fleur giggled at the thought of being on the London Eye with the boy that her daughter had crushed on for most of her life.

"Is something else bothering you, Fleur," Harry asked and titled her head upward.

"Can I sleep wiz you tonight, Arry?" Fleur asked Harry with her wide and shimmering eyes. "I don't want to be alone; I'm scared to be alone in this place."

"Yeah, of course you can," he stammered as Fleur slowly laid down on the bed. "I just hope Neville doesn't catch us."

She smiled warmly and softly kissed Harry on the cheek. She ran a hand through his messy hair and laughed.

"You're a really sweet and caring person, Arry. You ave nice eyes," Fleur said and gazed into his emerald eyes.

"They're my mothers," Harry said and smiled fondly at the memory of his mother.

"Gabrielle has never stopped talking about you! She is always asking when can she meet the famous Arry Potter.

"Is she here?" Harry nervously asked and croaked.

"No," Fleur said and giggled. "She is still at home wiz mama and papa! I zink she's driving them up the wall with her constant babbling about you.""

"Has she? Harry croaked and thought that her celebrity crush would've gone by now.

"Do you zink zat we're going to lose zis war?2 Fleur asked and her hand rested lightly on top of Harry's knee.

"I don't know what is going to happen, Fleur," Harry said and shifted uncomfortably when he realised that Fleur's soft and small hand was touching his knee. "I don't want to think about it."

"Can we just sit in silence, Arry?"

Harry said nothing and nodded his head. It was the first time that had a girl had sat down on his bed. They said nothing and sat in silence, it was peaceful, quiet and yet so strange. She held onto Harry and she was afraid to let go. Fleur cried softly and slowly rocked herself back and forth.


	9. Harry Potter and the Veela

-Chapter Nine-

-Harry Potter and the Veela-

* * *

It was early in the morning, Harry's eyes slowly opened and he found that Fleur was still sleeping next to him. She looked so beautiful and peaceful; her cute nose flared every time her breasts rose. He couldn't describe the feeling in his stomach, was it a strong crush or her Veela Charm? He sat there and watched her sleep; it wasn't a creepy thing but more of a protective thing.

Softly, Harry wiped a tear away from her cheek and knew that she had been crying in her sleep. His hand stayed on her soft cheek, and burning feel came back into his stomach. She mewed and stirred; Harry quickly took his hand away from her cheek and laid down on his other side. The alarm clock displayed the time of four minutes after seven, it was still early in the morning and Harry knew that he couldn't get back to sleep.

His mind was running like it had ran on infinite energy, it never switched off and his brain was filled with meaningless thoughts from his quickly changing dreams. He had dreamt about Lord Voldemort and Wormtail again, it wasn't the first time that it had happened and probably wouldn't be last one. He sat there, his white pyjama top stuck sickly to his skin as if he had just finished running a marathon.

He jerked his arm to the right and it accidentally crashed into Fleur's stomach.

"Ow! Fleur grunted and rubbed her arm. "Could you watch where you're putting zat arm, Arry?"

"Sorry," Harry apologised and rubbed his hand over his prickling scar. "Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to get a bag of ice?"

"I'm okay, Arry," she said and smiled at his caring tone.

"That's good to know, Fleur," Harry said and beamed brightly.

"What time is it, Arry?" Fleur asked and she looked over to see that Neville was fast asleep. She yawned loudly and slowly slid out of the bed. Her hair was a mess.

Fleur sat on the edge of the bed and glanced at her appearance in the wheezing mirror. She waved her wand enthusiastically and her hair returned to normal. She sighed as she looked over her shoulder.

"It's just after seven, Fleur," Harry replied tiredly and yawned loudly. "I don't think I'm ever going back to sleep."

"What do you want to do, Arry?" she asked and glanced over her shoulder. She stared at the tired boy and had heard him whimpering in his sleep. "Did you sleep well, Harry?"

He swung his legs around and said nothing. Had she heard him whimpering? Shit! Harry cursed in his thought and mentally kicked himself. He never wanted Fleur or anyone to hear him talking. Harry felt so weak and useless, he felt tired, like the energy had been drained overnight. The wizard wiped his hand against the nape of his neck, the back of his neck ached and throbbed like someone pressing something against it.

Harry felt his scar prickling; it was like a hot knife had been pressed against his forehead. He never said anything or let on that his scar was hurting. He rubbed his fingers against the palm of his hands and sat in complete silence. He enjoyed the silence; it was calm and peaceful, like the waters to a calm ocean and beach. It was the first time that the house had been peaceful; normally Mrs. Weasley would be shouting at something, he still never knew what was behind that curtain.

Curiously wondering, Harry thought it was a painting that was alive. He thought it was weird, it was like something was breathing behind him and that horrible Kreacher hated when anyone walked past it. Harry scooted back and felt that he was touching Fleur with his hand; he quickly removed and placed it on his lap before she could see anything.

"Did you hear me talking in my sleep, Fleur?"

"I only caught a little bit, Arry," she said and rubbed her hand across his broad shoulder. "You mentioned 'im a lot, Arry."

His dreams were always about Lord Voldemort and nothing else.

"What do you want to do today, Arry?"

"I think I would like to go to Diagon Alley. I need to get out of this hellhole," Harry said and smoothed a hand across his cheek. "Would you do me the honour as going as my escort, Fleur? I would really like to get out of this house."

"I would do zat, Arry," she said and stroked her hand through his hair. "I think you really need a haircut."

"You're the greatest, Fleur!" he said as she beamed brightly.

"Thank you, Arry. You're such a caring boy," she said and her eyes met with his.

"What are you thanking me for, Fleur?" Harry asked and looked confused. He blushed and smiled when she kissed him on the cheek.

Her lips felt beautiful and warm against his skin, the blush was the same colour of a ripe tomato and Harry couldn't stop himself from blushing.

"I'm thanking you for letting me sleep in your bed and looking after me," Fleur said. "I think I need to look my best if we're going out in public. I can't have people thinking that I dress like a slob."

"You already look great, Fleur," Harry said as Fleur quickly hurried into the bathroom with a large smile on her face.

* * *

It was three or four hours later when Harry and Fleur stepped into the Leaky Cauldron. It was a dark and scruffy place that looked to be still in the forties. Harry wore a plain t-shirt and a pair of faded jeans. He saw that Tom was behind the bar.

"Harry Potter, you have returned," Tom said pleasantly and dipped his head forward. "I see you brought your girlfriend in here, she's very beautiful."

Harry and Fleur blushed at the same time.

"She's not my girlfriend, Tom; she's just a good friend and I'm taking her shopping in Diagon Alley," Harry said to Tom and led Fleur into the back room. He saw that all the female witches were gawping at him and Fleur. Were they jealous? "Come on, Fleur, we haven't got all day."

Harry led the babbling Fleur into a roof covered courtyard. A smouldering cigar lay on top of a dirty and ash filled ashtray.

"I've never been to Diagon Alley," Arry," Fleur said as she stood in front of a large brick wall. "Why are we standing in front of a brick wall?"

"I will show you, Fleur," Harry said and pulled his wand out of his waistband.

He tapped his wand against the brick wall and waited. Softly, Harry watched as a single brick wobbled, it trembled and made a small hole appear in the middle of the wall. It had been a long time since Harry had seen this happen; he was surprised, shocked and confused when he first saw it happen. It grew larger and larger, and a second later, Harry and Fleur were standing in front of a large archway that was big enough to fit a large man. The view was an old cobbled street.

"Welcome," Harry said to the shocked Fleur. "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Fleur."

He smiled and laughed loudly at Fleur's expression. Quickly, they stepped through the archway and made their way onto the cobbled street. Fleur turned her head and quickly looked over her shoulder as she saw that the archway was gone and had turned back into a solid brick wall.

"It is amazing, Harry!" she squealed quietly as she looked at the different shops.

Harry was pretty confused by the way that Fleur was staying close to his body, her womanly hips nearly swung into his body. He cleared his throat nervously and slowly walked down the long cobbled street.

"Where do you want to go first, Fleur? You can buy something and it'll be my treat, he said and placed a silencing finger over her mouth when she tried to protest. "No! It is my treat and I can spend my money how I feel like it."

"You don't have to do zat, Arry," she complained and fretted when she saw him leading her to a shop that sold amazing jewellery. Her smile decorated her beautiful face when she saw a gorgeous sapphire necklace. "I like zat one, Arry. I would like zat one if you don't mind at all."

"I don't mind at all, Fleur, you need someone to cheer you up and I want to be that person," Harry said and took out three silver coins and handed it to her. "Why don't you go inside and I'll wait out here for you, Fleur?"

She screamed in delight as she hurried into the store. It was about another half an hour before Fleur finally managed to emerge from the store, she proudly wore her necklace as it dangled down her chest. Her hands were on hips and Harry gazed at her amazing body. He knew that he shouldn't be looking at her in this way, it was the way the sunlight hit her face, and it was the way that her large breasts jiggled every time she moved or laughed.

"What do you zink, Arry? Does it look on me?"

"It looks beautiful on you, Fleur," Harry said as Fleur gushed. She hugged him and planted a long kiss on his cheek. "It's beautiful just like you, Fleur."

Harry kept his hand tightly wrapped around her waist as he pushed her against the gleaming shop window. He looked into her eyes with his lust filled ones. His hand smoothed down her stomach; he gazed at her body and felt something burning in his stomach.

"Arry," Fleur said as she faintly blushed. "You're touching my body, Arry. Stop it!"

"What?" Harry asked as soon as the fog in his bran had been cleared. He stared at Fleur's distressed eyes. "What are you talking about, Fleur?"

"I said you were touching me, Arry!" Fleur said as Harry's wandering hands slowly came away from her body. "Let's go somewhere else, Arry."

"I'm sorry," Harry apologised and they forgot about it. "I think I want to look at Zonko's Joke Shop."

"Good choice," Fleur said as they carried on walking.

Harry walked and laughed. It was the first time that he felt happy and peaceful, the smile on Fleur's face made him smile as well. The warm morning wind whipped at his face. Harry walked forward until he roughly bashed into someone.

"Why don't you watch where you're going? Do you not know who I am?"

Harry saw that he had banged roughly into Draco Malfoy. His face went cold and pale; it was like the blood had ran from it.

"Malfoy!" Harry spat when he saw the gloating face that taunted him every day at school.

"Potter!" he drawled when he saw that Harry Potter was standing in front of him. "Fancy seeing you here, eh? I thought that you would've been locked away in a bedroom, crying yourself to sleep."

"Why would I do that, Malfoy?" Harry said and furiously rolled his eyes. "Do you think that I'm going to hide behind a mask and hide away from my problems? No!

Draco stood there and had his emerald and sliver coat buttoned up to his throat. He scowled at Harry when he realized what he was saying.

"I don't know what you're saying, Potter!" Draco said and furiously scowled at the boy in front of him. "I don't like the tone that you are using.

"You know what I'm talking about!" Harry snarled.

"It looks like you got yourself a girlfriend, Potter, even though it's a filthy Veela whore," Draco taunted Harry's female companion. "Fleur Delacour, I don't think I've had the pleasure of introducing myself to you. I'm.."

"I know who you are, Draco Malfoy. My father and muzzer have met your father, and they weren't impressed in the slightest."

A smirk came onto his face as he stared at Fleur.

"How did you bag a Veela, Harry? Did you use the old Potter charm? How did you worm your way into her bed?"

Fleur gasped and automatically clutched her hands around Harry's waist, her finger dug into his soft flesh. She had never met anyone so rude or cruel and it made her stomach churn.

"Who are you talking to, Draco?" Narcissa Malfoy hummed as she came over to her son. She coldly gazed at Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour. "Oh, I see! You're not talking to anyone important."

"I was just talking to Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour, Mother," he said and smiled as his mother held an armful of designer bags.

"Hello, Harry Potter," her voice was a cold sneer.

"Hello, Mrs. Malfoy," he sarcastically greeted the attractive witch and looked around. "Where's your husband, Mrs. Malfoy. Is he too busy kissing Lord Voldemort's feet to take his wife and son on a shopping trip?"

"He's at the Ministry, Harry," Narcissa said and a smile came onto her face. "At least Draco's parents actually do something. Where are yours?"

"Ow dare you, Narcissa!" Fleur screeched and took her wand out of her pocket. She stormed forward and pressed it against Narcissa's pale cheek. "What makes you zink zat you're better than any of us, Narcissa?"

"I am better than you and Harry, you're a half blood and you're a disgusting Veela," Mrs. Malfoy spoke coldly, it was tone that her husband and son both used. "I don't think Half-Bloods and Veelas should be allowed to be in public, they all should be locked away in Azkaban. I wonder where you're staying, Harry. Are you staying at the Weasley home, if you can call it a home?"

"You aren't better than anyone, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said and sniggered when Mrs. Malfoy and Draco glared at him. "You husband is an enormous coward and a bully, he hid behind a mask and watched as Cedric Diggory died."

"You should watch your mouth, Harry," Draco spat and kept a tight hold of his wand.

"Why should I watch my mouth? What are you going to do about, Malfoy? Do you think that you're going to attack me in front of everyone?" Harry taunted Draco with a mischievous smile.

"The Dark Lord is watching you, Potter," Draco said and threatened Harry and Fleur.

"Is zat one of your idle threats, Draco?" Fleur decided to speak as she slowly drew her wand out. "You will not arm an air on Arry's ead!"

Draco swallowed hard when Fleur's wand slowly dragged across his cheek.

"That's cute, Potter," Draco said and snickered. "Is it true that you can't fight your own battles?"

"I could handle you any day, Draco," Harry threatened Draco with a famous stare. "Do you want me to turn you into a little ferret?"

Draco stood there with the biggest scowl on his face. He held onto his wand, he was ready to use it at any moment. He glanced from Harry to Fleur and saw that two wands were pointed at him; Draco shook his head and walked away as his mother quickly followed him down the street.

"Good riddance to bad rubbish!" Harry shouted at Draco and Mrs. Malfoy.

"Why don't we go to Zonko's Joke Shop, Arry?"

* * *

Stomping his feet, Harry trudged up the staircase of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and had left Fleur in the kitchen with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny. He turned the corner and saw that Sirius and Professor Lupin were standing near that closed curtain.

"Hello, Sirius and Professor Lupin!" Harry said loudly and saw that they both winced and looked at each other. "What's wrong? What's happened? Has someone died?"

The dusty covered velvet curtains were suddenly thrown apart as if someone had pulled an invisible chord. Harry stared forward and thought he was dreaming at first, he couldn't believe what he was looking at, at first he thought it was a picture until it started screaming at him. He slowly backed away until he crashed into the banister. He saw an old, wrinkly and withered witch; she had a feathered hat on and had the expression of pure evil. Her eyes were large and wide, her dark, black and cold eyes glared at Harry as she pointed a wagging finger at him.

"YOU!" the portrait screamed at him.

"What have you done to upset her, Harry?" Sirius said sarcastically and laughed loudly as he and Professor Lupin struggled to pull the curtains to a close. "What did you say to my mother, Harry?"

"That's your mother, Sirius?" Harry said and looked gobsmacked. "How? Why? What?"

"Ever since I was born, Harry," Sirius said and the screaming was muffled. "Could you leave me and Harry to talk, Moony?"

"Of course," Professor Lupin said and patted Harry on the shoulder as he passed him. "I'll see you at dinner, Harry."

"What do you want to speak to me about, Sirius?" Harry asked Sirius as soon as Professor Lupin had quickly walked down the staircase.

"Come on, why don't we go into the drawing room where we have a proper chat about this home," Harry said as they walked down the stairs.

Entering the drawing room, Sirius closed it and locked it behind.

"What did you want to talk about? Is it about Lord Voldemort?"

"Wait a minute, Harry," Sirius said and placed his hand on his shoulder.

"Why?"

"Kreacher!" Sirius barked and the ugly looking House-Elf scattered from underneath the drawing room. "Get out of this room!"

"Yes, Master!" he said and trembled. Kreacher disappeared with a faint pop and the drawing room was silent.

"I bet you're still wondering how I was in Gryffindor and was related to a family that had nearly always had Slytherin members, Sirius laughed humourless. "You should've see your father and Moony's reaction?"

"This is your family, Sirius?" Harry asked and he gazed up at the large family tree. "It's so old. I still can't believe it, Sirius."

"Yes, it dates all the way back to Merlin," Sirius said and stroked his hand softly across the tapestry. "My mother made me stand here twice a day and look at our family tree. It was the worst punishment that I had ever done." That's me, Harry. I was burned off when I was sixteen, my mother did it."

"Why did she do that?"

"She will burn a face and name off when they do something that she doesn't like," Sirius said and ran his finger across the burnt cigarette mark. "I'm not the only one that has been burnt off."

"Why would she do something like that, Sirius? How could a mother do that to her own son?"

"She's an evil, scheming, manipulative witch who would do anything to spite someone," Sirius said and looked at where his face had been burned off. "Some of these people are Death Eaters, you already know her."

Sirius pointed at Bellatrix Lestrange and tapped it. Harry stood there and felt as if his head had been rocked about.

"Wait a damn minute!" Harry shouted when he saw a pale-faced and blonde hair boy gazing back at him. It was Draco Malfoy. "Why didn't you tell me that you were related to Draco Malfoy? God!"

"Do you think that is something worth telling, Harry? Sirius asked Harry and smiled sadly."

Harry stood there and realised why Sirius had never talked about his family and it made perfect sense to him.


	10. The Tales of Sirius Black

-Chapter Ten-

-The Tales of Sirius Black-

* * *

It was a long and silent moment as neither man wanted to speak. Harry stood in front of the fading tapestry, and his curious eyes gazed from one part of the family tree to the other. His brain was hurting as the thoughts circled in his head. He didn't know what to say or do, should he say something? No. Harry stood there and let the silence engulf the room like a fire to a building. He looked at Narcissa Malfoy's beaming face, it was there and he couldn't escape from it. He also wondered who else Sirius was related to.

Harry swallowed hard when he saw the name Charlus Potter; it made his blood boil that he might be possibly related to all these dark wizards and witches. He felt sick and confused. Why? Was he being punished? Suddenly, Harry felt a cold and spine-tingling chill shoot down his back; it was like a spider dancing against his skin.

"Are you going to say something, Harry? Are we going to stand in silence?"

"How is that even possible? What was she like when she was younger?" Harry eagerly asked Sirius as his eyes glanced at the branches on the Black Family Tree. "Was she different to know what I know?"

Sirius nodded his head slowly and his eyes darkened. A saddened expression came onto his face and it lingered for a second before quickly vanishing.

"Narcissa was a sweet, innocent and naïve girl when she was younger and enjoyed my company," Sirius said sadly and looked at her face on the tapestry in front of him. "Merlin! She met Lucius Malfoy, that bastard changed her in so many ways."

"Do you reckon she would be different if she wasn't married to him?"

"She was a proud Black before she was a Malfoy," Sirius said. "Narcissa Black was my cousin before she married Lucius Malfoy and gave birth to Draco, she wasn't my favourite cousin, and she was second favourite cousin and my least favourite one was and still is Bellatrix Lestrange. I think you already know who that is, Harry. Her sisters are Andromeda Tonks and Bellatrix Lestrange. Do you know who she is, Harry?"

Harry nodded his head. His scar prickled but never said or did anything. He thought that Lord Voldemort was trying to tell him something, he winched and he felt a sharp and burning pain hit his forehead so quickly and unexpectedly. It nearly knocked him over; Harry was both pleased and surprised when Sirius hadn't noticed that he was hurting. He had hidden it well, like someone trying to bury treasure deep down into ground.

"I do know who Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius," he said and shuddered coldly. He would never forget that screaming and demented woman; it looked like she had come from hell itself.

Harry remembered the screaming woman when he looked into Dumbledore's thoughts via the Pensieve. It was a sight that he was desperately struggling to forget, it was stuck there, rolling around in the back of his mind.

"I saw her when I looked into Dumbledore's thoughts; she was responsible for the attack on Alice and Frank Longbottom," Harry said and his whole body went numb.

"Neville's parents, they were such sweet people, they loved their child more than anything in the world. There were rumours floating around that they also tried to get them to tell them where Neville and his grandmother were hiding. I felt sick when I heard the news; I couldn't believe that someone from my family was a part of it.

"Have you ever told Neville that you know about his parents?"

Harry shook his head.

"I thought it would be best if I left alone and never said anything to him," Harry said.

"That does sound right," Sirius said and smiled at Harry. "The poor boy doesn't like talking about it.

"Why didn't you not say that you were related to the Malfoy or anyone else on this?" Harry confusingly asked as he pointed at the tapestry. "I think I've right to know since the name Potter is on there always."

Sirius wished that Harry had never seen that name; he knew it was, he had seen the name and the person before, it was James' father.

"Do you think that is something that I wanted everyone to know, Harry?" Sirius asked and glanced up at the tapestry. "Would you want everyone to know that you're related to nearly all the bad wizards and witches?"

That unnerving silence greeted Harry and Sirius once again before they could do anything. He felt a confused and betrayed, but why? Why did he feel betrayed?

"I think it's just best that you go to your bedroom and stay there until dinner time," Sirius said. "I would try to stay out of Mrs. Weasley way, she's been trying to get everyone to do the cleaning but I think that's Kreacher's job, it's the only good thing that he does around the house."

"This place is so boring! I wish I was back at Hogwarts!"

"How do you think I feel, Harry? I've been stuck in this house ever since the Order was reformed! I don't think I'm getting out of here. I'll probably die in here as well, born, raised and died in the same place."

Harry pitted his godfather but there wasn't much he could do for him. How could he help him? What could he do? Was there anything that he could for his godfather? He felt hopeless and useless when he looked at the glum face that was his godfather.

"Sorry," Harry quickly apologised when he realized what he said. An idea quickly popped into his head, but it wasn't the greatest. "Why don't you turn into Padfoot?"

"I can't!" Sirius whined. "There are Death Eaters out there that know about my Animagus form."

"Oh, I see," Harry replied and bowed his head down to stare at his shuffling feet. "Do you think you're going to be stuck here forever? What if we get you cleared?"

Sirius scoffed bitterly and cackled.

"I think I would have to be dead to get my name cleared. Why don't you run along, Harry. I just want to be left alone for the time being. I hope you can understand, Harry."

"I understand, Sirius," Harry said and walked out of the drawing room. He closed the door and let Sirius wallow in his own sadness.

* * *

It was late in the evening and looming darkness had dawned onto this rough part of London. The clouds were dark and full of rain. The darkness engulfed the rundown neighbourhood was dimly illuminated by the broken and fluttering streetlamps. The wind howled and screeched, it was like an enormous creature stalking throughout the swallowing darkness. The street was empty like nothing lived there, some of the houses were square and dark and there wasn't a single light on.

A candle light flickered in Harry and Neville's bedroom as three people sat quietly in the room. Harry was sitting alone on his bed; Ginny and Neville were sitting together on his bed.

"What do you think He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is planning to do, Harry?" Neville asked as he had his hands draped around Ginny's shoulders. "Have they said anything more to you? Do you know what is going on?"

Harry shook his head; he rolled his wand against the bed sheet and felt his scar hurting worse than it did in the drawing room.

"I don't even know what to think, Neville? How am I supposed to know what Lord Voldemort is planning, Neville? Do you think I know because of this?"

He tapped his wand against his lightning bolt shaped scar, it prickled again.

"I don't what is going to happen or who is going to die, Neville," Harry said and looked at the old alarm clock. It was just passing eleven clock and they had been talking for about four hours. "What's happening tonight?"

"There's going to be another meeting tonight, Harry," Ginny informed her friend and nodded her head. "I don't know how many people will be there."

"Will Professor Dumbledore be there, Ginny?" Harry asked and his eyes lit up with excitement. "Will he?"

Ginny looked up at Harry and simply shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know any more than you do, Harry," Ginny said and stroked Neville's cheek. She kissed his forehead and giggled when she heard Harry groaning.

"Could you please get a room?" Harry snorted in disgust."

"We have a room, Harry," Neville taunted him and pointed at the room that they were in.

"I was talking about a room where I'm not in," Harry said a pang of jealously hit. He didn't have a girlfriend or anyone to kiss or hold at night. "Aren't there other rooms that you can use, Ginny?"

"Jealous are we, Harry?" Ginny said as her other hand snaked around Neville's fat waist.

"No," he said even though he was. "I'm not jealous, Ginny. Could you please stop looking at me like that?"

Who would love him? His thoughts drifted to that secret admirer, was it Luna Lovegood? According to Ginny, she seemed sweet, innocent but slightly crazy. Is that something that he wanted? In his dream, she was always smiling and laughing, telling him and another boy about her crazy beliefs.

"I think Lord Voldemort is trying to kill Fudge," Harry said and Ginny gasped as she clasped a hand over her mouth.

"What does Fleur think about that?" Ginny teasingly asked Harry as she and Neville laughed. "Does she think the same?"

How was Harry going to answer without sounding nervous? He coughed nervously and rubbed his hands in front of him.

"What's that supposed to mean, Ginny?" Harry asked and found himself blushing. "There's nothing going on between us. We're just friends and I think we're going to stay that way. She's far too old for me, I'm happy staying the way I am."

"Or are you waiting for Luna Lovegood?" Ginny said and giggled. "I think still think she's the one who been sending you letters with all those kisses."

"You don't know that, Ginny," Harry quickly interjected and then silenced himself when heard Ginny and Neville laughing loudly.

"I'm just teasing you, Harry," Ginny said and smiled warmly at the flustering boy.

"Could you at least cut it out for a couple of hours, Ginny? It's getting pretty old," Harry said and looked over at Hedwig's cage. "How long has Hedwig been out?"

"Couple of hours," Neville replied.

He had let her out to explore London; she was bored from staying locked up in her cage while they were at the Dursley home. Harry felt locked up, it wasn't as worse as Sirius, but he had nowhere to go and there was a possibility that he wasn't going back to Hogwarts. What would he do? He needed to be back at school, it was the safest and most warm place for him.

Harry heard the rush of soft footsteps; they were light and soft against the tattered carpet. The rusted doorknob creaked, the door slowly as Fleur quickly poked her head into the dark and quiet bedroom. The candle had flickered out as a gust of wind blew into the bedroom.

"What do you want, Fleur?" Harry asked when he saw her head peering into the bedroom.

She thought Harry's tone was harsh and uncalled for; she looked at him and narrowed his eyes. Fleur said nothing and smiled warmly at him.

"I was just coming to tell you zat Professor Snape has come to the meeting, Arry," Fleur said and then she saw the dark look morph onto his frustrated face. "Ave I come at a bad time, Arry?"

Harry's eyebrow rose until they reached his forehead and disappeared by his long strands of hair. He had never trusted or liked Professor Snape, he was another slimy Slytherin, his crooked nose, greasy black hair and tattered robes were enough to make anyone feel uneasy.

"Are you feeling okay, Arry?

"Yes," he said and quickly nodded his head.

He was consumed by anger and frustration; it boiled his blood knowing that Professor Snape was attending one of the meetings.

"I need to go and talk to Professor Snape," Harry said and walked out of the room. He passed Fleur as she began heading toward her room.

"Could you not start an argument wiz Professor Snape?" Fleur said as her foot hit another step of the long and never-ending staircase.

Harry ignored Fleur and carried on walking forward. He silently passed the closed curtain and could hear faint snoring coming from behind. Professor Snape was standing at the bottom of the staircase and wore his long black travelling cloak. His slick and greasy hair was like an unveiling curtain, it hung in front of his face and swished backwards and forwards. Harry face was like thunder as he saw Professor Snape standing in the hallway.

"Professor Snape!" Harry shouted and didn't care about the noise of his voice, anger flooded through his bones.

At the sound of his student, Professor Snape smiled to himself and turned his head around to see Harry Potter hurrying down the staircase.

"Hello Potter," Professor Snape sneered and his lip curled into a condescending smile. "I see you're looking well, much better since I saw you saw, Potter."

"That was because I had just seen Lord Voldemort came back!" Harry said mockingly and taunted Professor Snape. I never thought I would see you until school started, Professor Snape. I didn't think I would see you here. I'm surprised that you're a member of the Order of the Phoenix."

"There are lot of things that you don't know about me, Potter," Professor Snape said and gazed into those familiar emerald eyes and wondered how he could be like this father and have his mother's beautiful and compassionate eyes. It was like he was just looking at James Potter. "Have you been busy this summer, Harry?"

Frowning, Harry stared forward and crossed his hands over his chest.

"What do you think, Professor Snape? I bet you haven't had to fight off Dementors this summer?" Harry asked Professor Snape and smiled when he shook his head.

"I've been preparing my lessons for my classes," he said and rolled his eyes.

The kitchen door opened and Mrs. Weasley stepped out of the room.

"We're ready for you, Professor Snape," Mrs. Weasley said as she came out of the kitchen.

Harry stood there and leaned against the banister as he tried to peek into the kitchen. The door slammed shut.

"Can I come into the meeting, Mrs. Weasley?"

Mrs. Weasley stood there and had her hands on her hips.

"No!" she said firmly and that was the end of that.

"I never get to know anything, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said as he moodily stormed back up the staircase as Mrs. Weasley and Professor Snape hurried into the kitchen. "This is just stupid! Why should Professor Snape get to be in a meeting when he's about as trustworthy as Liverpudlian in court?"


	11. Kreacher's Discomfort

-Chapter Eleven-

-Kreacher's Discomfort-

* * *

It had been a whole day since Harry had seen Professor Snape go into the meeting and he was still thinking about. Harry was sat down at the kitchen table and it was becoming another boring summer afternoon. Without saying, Harry looked down at his plate and moodily stabbed his fork into his healthy looking salad and wanted nothing more than answers.

He had been quiet for about an hour now, he didn't want to speak and didn't feel like he had to. Harry liked the peaceful silence that surrounded the kitchen table. Nobody was arguing or talking about Lord Voldemort, his scar prickled every time he thought of that name. Unintentionally, Harry could hear the petty crook that was Mundungus Fletcher talking about some stolen cauldrons that he was going to sell in Diagon Alley. It was a topic that he couldn't be bothered about, why would he be bothered about stolen cauldrons?

He silently stared at Mundungus, to Harry; he was a shady person that always looked like they were up to no good. He was a short man, rather short man indeed and Harry could even tell that with him sitting down on the armchair next to the enormous fireplace. He looked sickly, he had the colour of death and Harry thought that a common winter cold could bump him off.

"Would you like some chocolate muffin and ice cream?" Mrs. Weasley sweetly asked Harry.

"No," Mrs. Weasley," Harry said and pointed toward his half eaten dinner plate. "I'm still eating my salad, Mrs. Weasley."

He was pleased when Mrs. Weasley left him alone and didn't pester him at all. She left him to sit in silence and collect his thoughts, Harry was tired, and he hadn't slept since last night after waking up from another nightmare. It was once again about Lord Voldemort and Wormtail; Neville had heard it all, the screaming, cursing and shouting. He also dreamt about something called The Devil's Domain, it was something that he had never heard of and it seemed as if nobody else has. What was it? Where was it? Did Lord Voldemort know about it? There was also a large spider in there, was it one of Aragog's.

His dreams changed as much as the wind blew, he once again dreamt of that pretty blonde-haired girl again. Harry couldn't get her out of his mind, she was constantly there, like a stain that wouldn't go away from a surface. He also dreamt about his parents, they fluttered into his mind, but sometimes, Harry had always suspected that they considered him as a failure. He was the main reason that they were dead; he was the reason why they wouldn't get to their lives.

He buttered his jacket potato and began eating it rather slowly. He ate the smallest piece and then put it down, his appetite had gone and was probably wasn't coming back for another day. He still had a slice of ham, bacon and half a salad to eat. Looking up, Harry saw that Ginny was staring at him and frowning.

"Why are you staring at me like that for, Ginny?" Harry asked, his tone was soft compared to other times. "Is there something upsetting you?"

"What's wrong with you, Harry? You haven't even touched Mum's homemade jacket potato? Ginny said to Harry and she leaned over the kitchen table. Her elbows were resting firmly against the table.

"He's not so hungry, Ginny, so don't force him," Mrs. Weasley said from the other side of the table. She glared at Ginny as she bit into one of her freshly baked chocolate muffins. "Could you take your elbows off the table, we have to eat there, Ginny.

"He needs to eat something, Mum!" Ginny said as she glared back at her mother. She retracted her elbows from the table. "I'm just trying to help him, Mum! Could you just try and eat a little bit, Harry? Please!"

Harry titled his head up and looked at her sparkling eyes. His stomach ached, his heart hammered when he saw that pleading look looking back at him.

"I'm perfectly fine, Ginny? Why don't you worry about your boyfriend instead of me, Ginny?" Harry snapped and continued to stare at his food.

"You don't have to speak to her like that, Harry!" Neville cried, he stood up and was immediately pushed back down onto his seat by a small but fiery redheaded witch.

"I can take care of myself, Neville, but thank you for looking after me," Ginny said to her boyfriend and praised him. "I'm sorry for caring about you, Harry, why do you have to push everyone away from you? You…"

"Just forget about, Ginny," Neville and quickly shushed her. He could sense that another argument was about to explode over the dinner table. "I just want to eat my chocolate muffin in peace."

Ginny nodded her head and was extremely reluctant to let it go. She felt insulted and hurt by Harry, how could he say something like that to her? The only sounds that filled the kitchen were Mundungus muttering under his breath and the crackling of the fire. The heat of the fire wasn't anything compared to the one that was building up inside of her. She muttered a cursed word, it was a word that her mother would've gasped or grounded her.

It was quiet house; it was like everyone was staying in a house where someone had just died. Would anyone die? A guilty feeling gnawed at the back of his neck, it was like something was sucking and sucking feelings out of him. The silence was broken when the kitchen door swung open and a furious and flustered Professor Lupin hurried into the kitchen without stopping. His face was red and dripping with sweat.

Harry looked around and saw the haunting look that was Professor Lupin's face. Had someone died? Had something happened? His heart hammered when he listened to the breathless gasping that came from Professor Lupin.

"What's wrong, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked as he watched the panting and struggling Professor Lupin hurry across the kitchen. "Has Lord Voldemort been spotted, Professor Lupin?"

Harry's voice filled with excitement, he was nearly sitting on the edge of the seat as he waited for the answer to come. He wasn't as excited as the others around him; he needed something to keep him going throughout the summer. What if someone had died? His heart broke for the family and prayed that nothing happened.

"Was Lord Voldemort there as well?"

There was a shudder of fear when that named slipped out of Harry's mouth without hesitation. He turned around and looked at everyone; he shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"What?" he said and glanced around at all those who were trembling. "You're going to have to learn to say his name; it's not a taboo, is it? It's not like he find you just because you say his name. What has happened, Professor Lupin?"

"Death Eaters have been spotted in London!" Professor Lupin exclaimed and brandished a copy of the Daily Prophet. The picture on the front cover moved and changed into something else. "They weren't even discreet about it."

Everyone in the room suddenly became still and their faces darkened and paled. Dinner plates were pushed from the edge of the table, food was forgotten about and it seemed as if Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort. Neville left a half-eaten muffin on Ginny's plate and then wiped his mouth with the napkin.

"How many are dead?" Sirius asked as heroes from his chair. His face was saddened and it was clear by Professor Lupin's face that someone had died. "Where did they attack?"

"They killed twenty people!" Professor Lupin said and growled lowly in his throat. His eyes were feral.

"Muggles?" Sirius asked softly and it was quite clear that innocent Muggles were the ones who died. "How old were they?

"It was a primary school, Sirius. They weren't even over the age of nine," Professor Lupin said and collapsed into his armchair. "They were just children; they weren't even old enough to do anything."

Ginny let out a strained gasp and cry.

"Why would they do something like that?" Ginny asked and she clutched her own hand around her boyfriend's hand.

"Why do you think they would do something like that, Ginny?" Harry retorted sarcastically and his appetite had slowly disappeared from him. "They'll attack anyone who can't fight or defend themselves. They're weak at the moment, Lord Voldemort is weak and I can't wait to meet him again. I will kill him this time."

It wasn't an idle threat and everyone knew that Harry meant it.

"I have a new plan and I want everyone to listen to me because I will say this only once," Sirius said as everyone turned around to look at him. "When you go outside or go to Diagon Alley, a member of the Order will accompany you and take you back here. I don't want anyone to argue about this. Do you understand that, Harry? I want you to stop your late night strolls around outside. At night, I want everyone inside and in their rooms before ten o clock. If you need something from outside, you will tell the nearest Order member. Does everyone understand what I'm trying to say?"

Harry nodded his head but never said anything. He felt imprisoned and trapped in this rundown building, all he had was rooms and walls to stare at.

"What else is the Prophet saying, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked after a moment of silence had filled the kitchen.

"It is rumoured that Pius Thicknesse is supposedly running to a campaign to become the next Minster For Magic," Professor Lupin said and placed the folded newspaper onto the desk.

"He's another Death Eater, claimed to be innocent," Sirius spat in disgust. "Don't they all do that so that they won't get flung into Azkaban? The Malfoy's were the same. "

"Who's coming to the meeting tonight, Sirius?"

"Professor Dumbledore is coming tonight, I got an owl from him," Sirius said and ignored the excitement on Harry's face.

"Can I speak to him, Sirius?"

Sirius shook his head and smoothed a hand across his cheek.

"No," Sirius replied bluntly and knew that his words stabbed into Harry like a sharp knife. "It's not up to me anymore, it's up to Professor Dumbledore and he doesn't want you to be any of the meetings. He's says that your too young and hot-headed to be in any of the future meetings."

"That's totally unfair!" Harry hotly shouted. "Why should I not be allowed into the meetings? I've got enough right to be in there! Why does Professor Snape go to the meetings and not me? Karkaroff said Professor Snape was a Death Eater, I'm strongly believing that Professor Snape is one and I don't care if Professor Dumbledore vouches for him."

"When did Karkaroff say that?"

"Never you mind where he said it, Sirius," Harry and wanted everything forgotten.

Sirius' eyes narrowed into small little slits and huffed. He was getting slightly annoyed with his constant temper tantrums.

"You don't have to throw a temper tantrum every time you don't get your own way!" Sirius barked at his godson and refused to back down when Mrs. Weasley tried to calm him down. "No! I will not calm down, Mrs. Weasley! I've had it up to here with him! Harry, I'm sick of your attitude and how you think that you're the most important person in this building. Why don't you wake up the smell the bullcrap, Harry? Everyone else is important."

"I am the most important person in here!" Harry shouted back and stood up. He angrily kicked his chair and pointed his wagging finger. "When was the last time that you done anything? Why don't you go and get screwed, Sirius?"

Sirius shouted and stood up. Sirius could hear Harry's loud footsteps booming throughout the house. He winced; a piercing scream filled the house as knew that his mother had pulled the curtains back.

"Leave him, Sirius," Mrs. Weasley said and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Why don't you let him blow off some steam before he comes back down?"

"He's not going to disrespect me or anyone else in my own home!" Sirius said and then heard his mother screaming throughout the house. "I think I will have to go and deal with my mother and then I'll come back. We're going to deal with Harry's attitude problem even if we have to drill it into him.

* * *

It was in the middle of the night and Harry was quietly creeping through Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. He felt calm and relaxed; it was something that he would do when he couldn't get back to sleep. He came to a closed bedroom door; it was an old and dusty door that had a large and rusted steel knocker on. Harry stood in front of it and knew that it wasn't Sirius' bedroom. There was a large "keep out sign" and it had the name in large and gold letters: Regulus Arcturus Black. He stared at the name, it was ever so familiar and the name racked his brain. Was it a cousin of Sirius? Or his brother?

"Who" Harry said and then remembered that he was stood in front of Sirius' brother's bedroom door. He pushed it and found out that it was locked. "Damn it!" I can't use magic anymore!"

Slowly, Harry pulled a lockpick from his pyjama bottom. He bent down and couched on the floor of the landing; he stuck the lockpick and wiggled it around. A faint clicking noise filled his ears. He took it out and pushed the door open. The room was dark, damp and it was like nobody had slept in the bed for at least seventeen years. Thick dust rose from the floor as Harry's feet quietly hit the bedroom floor.

It was an old fashioned bedroom, a dusty chandelier swung slowly. The bed was broken, a Slytherin quilt cover was on the bed, and it was faded and tattered. He saw a photograph of Regulus and saw that he looked like his older brother; they had the same colour and style hair and the same healthy looks. Harry knew that he died and was killed by either Lord Voldemort or the Death Eaters.

Harry thought he was a foolish and young man, who on earth would side with Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Bitterly, Harry thought he was another slimy Slytherin that needed a reality check. He saw a strange looking locket on the large wooden desk, it was a sparkling locket, and it was a large serpentine S, made with glittering and green stones. What did the S stand for? Was it Slytherin?

He moved forward and stood in front of the desk. His hand rubbed against the locket, it felt strange against his hand, and when he touched it felt to him if it was something that he shouldn't be touching. Harry suddenly felt his scar prickling and it felt as if Lord Voldemort was screaming right next to him. He picked it up, it was like it was calling to him, and he gasped and felt his hand burn.

"That is no yours to touch, Harry Potter!" Kreacher screeched from the darkness, his voice was full of hate. "You in the wrong!"

There was the quick sound of rushing footsteps. Harry felt something sharp and pointy stabbing roughly into his leg; Kreacher was stabbing him with something. He looked and saw Kreacher was holding the smallest knife in his hand.

"Ow!" You stupid little mug, Kreacher!" Harry shouted and screamed as he brought his foot crashing into Kreacher's face. "What did you do that for, Kreacher?"

Kreacher squalled and whimpered. He crashed to the ground as blood spurted from his nose. His foot kicked into Kreacher's face for the second time. He picked up the squirming House-Elf, he felt so light and fragile in his hand but that didn't stop him from shaking him.

"Why is that locket so important?" Harry asked as he shouted at Kreacher. He watched as his tiny little head wobbled back and forth. "Does it belong to you Regulus?"

"Let go of me you filthy Half-Blood!" Kreacher demanded loudly, his voice was angry; his eyes were baying for blood. "Get off me! You is a disgusting boy! Sneaking around Master Regulus' bedroom."

"What does it mean?" Harry asked and Kreacher squirmed desperately in his grasp.

Tilting his head back, Kreacher bared his razor sharp teeth and sunk into the flesh of Harry's fingers. He bit and bit, his teeth sunk deeper and harder into his skin. Kreacher dangled in the mid-air.

"Ow!" Harry moaned as Kreacher violently bit on the edge of his finger. Kreacher dropped to the floor, disappeared and took the locket with him.

Harry looked around the bedroom and was alone again. He looked at his finger and the blood dripped down onto the carpet. The wizard found himself with nothing to do; Harry walked out of the bedroom and only could think about the locket.


	12. Gabrielle Delacour

-Chapter Twelve

-Gabrielle Delacour-

* * *

The memory of the locket was still lingering in his mind and the way Kreacher reacted to it. Did it mean something? Was something that she could continue to think about or forget it ever happened? Harry numbly sat on the edge of his bed and nursed his throbbing finger. He had a plaster on his finger and still thought about that unfamiliar and strange locket. He shook his head.

Harry had looked into magical textbooks for a powerful locket but found nothing. He had another dream about Lord Voldemort, he heard a name of something but wasn't quite sure if it was real or fake. It was something called a Horcrux, but Harry thought that was just a made up name and never bothered to ask questions about it.

"Are you okay, Harry? I can't believe that you jammed your fingers in the door," Neville said as he sprawled out on his bed and looked up. "You should be more careful."

It was too late for that, wasn't it, Neville? Harry thought and snickered to himself. It was early in the morning, around five o'clock and Harry and Neville couldn't get back to sleep after being awoken up by Sirius' mother screaming loudly after someone had walked past her curtain.

"Did you sleep well or did you have another dream about him and Wormtail?"

"I slept okay, it's rather warm tonight," Harry said and peeled his t-shirt from his sticking skin. "I don't think I can go back to sleep."

"Me neither," Neville replied and wiped his hand against his forehead. It was too uncomfortable for him to fall back to sleep.

"Do you reckon I'll go back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked softly and worryingly asked, it was something that had been weighing down on his shoulders. "I've got the hearing in a couple of days."

"You'll sail through the hearing, Harry," Neville reassured him with a warm smile.

Harry knew that it wouldn't happen. How could he sail through a hearing that Cornelius Fudge was taken? The windows were flung wide open and a Cooling Charm had been place around it. He said nothing but thought about it. What would he do if his wand was snapped? What would he do if he was expelled from Hogwarts? He could see Draco Malfoy laughing at him.

He hadn't seen Kreacher since meeting with him; he hated him even more now. He heard Neville talking to him but tuned out. He stared forward, everything he listened to went in one ear and through the other. He wasn't tired anymore, for some reason Harry found himself to be full of energy. Neville was talking and it was just a distorted voice, like he was drunk and Neville's voice was echoing loudly.

"You aren't even listening to what I'm saying are you, Harry?" Neville asked Harry as he looked over to the blank look on Harry's face. It was like he was in a trance or another world.

Harry realised that Neville was talking to him, he snapped out of his trance and he turned his head to look at him.

"Of course I am," Harry said and had a curious and puzzled look on his face. "What? What did you say by the way?"

Neville laughed and shook his head.

"You were saying something, Neville, you might as well continue to say it, Neville. I'm sorry that I wasn't listening but I was in another word.

"I was saying that I think Professor Dumbledore will be able to get you through the hearing without any hassle," Neville said and gazed at the orange glow from the street light hitting the ceiling. "Do you honestly think that the government will think that you used a Patronus Charm for no reason?"

"Unless the hearing board are bunch of Nazis," Harry spat.

"What are Nazis?" Neville asked and his face frowned.

"Long story, Neville, it's something that a Muggle would only know," he said and nervously rubbed his hands against his aching neck. "Who do you reckon will become the new DADA teacher? I wonder if it's better than the last one."

A thoughtful expression came onto Neville's face. He nodded his head and slowly shrugged his shoulders. They have had one good teacher in the last four years.

"I don't know," Neville replied and shrugged his shoulder. "We all know that the gig is cursed. One has person has already died doing, Professor Lockhart lost his memory, Professor Lupin was found out to be a werewolf and Mad-Eye Moody was impersonated by Barty Crouch."

"I hope its Professor Snape, hey; he might get bumped off like Professor Quirrell," Harry said and crossed his fingers. "Do you reckon it might be someone from the Ministry?"

"Good question, Harry," Neville said and praised him. "It could be, they also could be doing it to keep a further eye on Professor Dumbledore."

"Do you think that they would do that?"

"Have you seen what the Ministry has been doing, Harry?"

"What?"

"If it was up to most of them at the Ministry, you and Professor Dumbledore would be getting a one way ticket to Azkaban," Neville said. "The Daily Prophet has been running nasty rumours about you."

"You sounded surprised by that," Harry said and laughed. "Of course they're gonna run rumours about me and Professor Dumbledore, have you seen who they let writes the articles?"

"Have you heard about Fiendhart Hardbroom?"

"Who the hell is Fiendhart Hardbroom?"

"He's a worker at the Ministry and he's the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. He took over from Dolores Umbridge after she supposedly went missing in London," Neville said and didn't believe the story at all.

"Do you think Death Eaters have killed her?"

"Hardly," Neville replied and laughed darkly. "She was a Death Eater and after the war she claimed to be what everyone else was."

"What has this Hardbroom done?"

"He wants to become the next Minster, Harry," Neville said with an alarming look. "He's trying to put the Muggle-Born-Registration-Commission forward."

"What does it do, Neville?"

"It will imprison Muggle-Born witches and wizards, Harry," Neville said and shuddered.

"That's barbaric! How can everyone stand for that?" Harry said and struggled to fight against his rising temper. "Is anyone opposing it?"

"There's a load of workers who are opposing it, Harry. They've threatened to leave the Ministry if he doesn't back down with his brutal campaign. He's starting to mellow out, but deep down; everyone knows that he's still thinking about doing it.

"Do you think he will become Minster for Magic? I thought Pius Thickness was running," Harry said.

"He's not the only person who is running for it, Harry," Neville said. "I don't know what is going to happen; me and Gran have stopped reading the Daily Prophet."

"Professor Lupin still gets it, but he said it was to see what the enemy was saying about us," Harry said and spat bitterly. "Who wants to read that piece of shit anyway?"

"Language, Harry. What would Mrs. Weasley say?" Neville teased as he laid his head down onto the pillow. He yawned. "Are you ready to fall back to sleep, Harry. I think we've got

"How do you think that, Neville?"

"Mrs. Weasley wants us to clean the whole house and I think Fleur's little sister is coming over," Neville said and slowly began drifting off.

Harry soon followed and dreamt about kissing that pretty small blonde-headed witch. It was a sweet dream; it was something that he wanted desperately to happen. Would it happen? A smile was on his sleeping face. The dream was peaceful, he danced, laughed, smiled as he gazed into the most beautiful eyes that he had ever seen. It was about four or five hours later when Harry's dream morphed into Lord Voldemort, Lucius Malfoy and Wormtail, he woke up screaming and glanced around the bedroom.

Glancing over at Neville, Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he discovered that Neville had slept peacefully through his loud screaming. His heart hammered and felt as if it was going to explode out of his chest, his brain never switched off and refused to let him go back to sleep. Neville snored loudly, how could someone sleep through someone screaming loudly?

He climbed out of the bed and slowly walked over to the bedroom window. Harry let out a long and panting sigh as he reached forward and unlocked his bedroom window. He opened it gently so the creaking window wouldn't disturb the sleeping person in the bedroom. He caught a lung of warm morning air; it refreshed him and pushed those dreams away from his mind.

It was light outside, but it was too bright, the sun had just appeared over the towering buildings and Harry could see the orange of the sun. It was too late to go back to sleep, it was now eight o'clock in the morning. He turned around and walked out of the bedroom.

* * *

Harry was stood in the drawing room and held a bucket of soapy water and a white clean cloth in his hand. The drawing room table was filthy and dirty; he wiped at the smudge and rinsed the dirty cloth in the bucket. He was the only person in the room; the rest had been forced by Mrs. Weasley to clean the other rooms in the house. Fleur kept popping in every now and then, he wondered if Fleur had a crush on him? He knew that he wasn't the smartest or handsome person in the world.

As he stood there, cleaning the table, the door behind him creaked open. He didn't bother to look over his shoulder; he knew it was probably Fleur trying to see how far he was getting along.

"Fleur, I thought that I told you that I was okay, do you honestly think that I can't do this by myself. Why don't you just go away and bother someone else?"

He heard small footsteps but didn't turn his head around. He furiously scrubbed at a disgusting looking smudge. Harry scowled at the stubborn smudge staining the enormous table; he sprayed more furniture polish on the surface. He attacked the annoying smear with a wad of kitchen roll; he smiled triumphantly when it finally disappeared.

"Arry Potter!" a little girl screamed as if she had seen a famous celebrity.

He turned around and saw that Gabrielle Delacour was standing in the doorway of the smelly drawing room. There was something about her that was different and strange, she looked older, much older than the last time he had seen her. Can someone age so quickly in a year?

"Do you remember me?" the small girl asked as she skipped over to Harry was standing. "Have I changed, Arry?"

He looked down and the small girl and smiled tenderly. Hair slivery blonde hair was just like her older sister, the way it was combed and the way it flowed down her shoulders.

"You're Gabrielle Delacour," Harry said and took her small hand in his. "You're Fleur's little and beautiful sister."

"Yes!" she squeaked and blushed. "You know my name!"

"How could I forget the person that I have saved?" Harry said and he slowly took his hand away from hers. "Where's that cute smile, Gabrielle?"

A smile came onto her healthy and young looking face. She wore an innocent summer dress, it was the colour of a bumblebee and her skin was a milky cream.

"I've been better, Arry," Gabrielle said softly and it was her tone that indicated that she was upset with something.

"Are you okay, Gabrielle?" Harry asked and stroked her cheek. He saw that she was upset about something. "Do you want to talk about it, Gabrielle? Is everything okay?"

"No," she quickly said and cried. "I'm going through The Change, Arry."

"The Change?" Harry stammered and wondered what she was talking about. "What's The Change, Gabrielle? Is it something that only Veelas go through?"

Gabrielle shook her head.

"Veela's go through puberty a lot younger than witches or Muggles," Gabrielle said and she nervously fiddled with her fingers. "I've become a woman, Arry. I look the age as a sixteen year old, but in here."

She tapped her head with her finger.

"I'm still the same age I was yesterday," Gabrielle said as more tears trickled down her beautiful face. "Why am I being punished, Arry? What did I do to deserve this?"

She sniffled and gazed into Harry's warm and compassionate eyes. Tears leaked from her eyes as a sob racked her small body.

"It'll be okay, Gabrielle," he said as she hugged him close. "I'm here for you and so is your older sister.

"You are? You'll look out for me, Arry?" Gabrielle asked as more tear flowed down her face. "Do you promise, Arry?"

"I would look out for you and Fleur," Harry said reassuringly.

She snuggled her head against his chest and smiled warmly.

"You're going to be okay, Gabrielle," Harry said and patted his head against the top of her head. "I'll look out for you and I think everyone in this house will?"

A soft laugh came from the doorway, Fleur stood there with a large grin as she watched Gabrielle and Harry hug each other. The older Veela laughed again, she felt something tug at her heart when she saw Harry comforting her crying sister.

"I see you met Gabrielle, Arry," Fleur said as she majestically walked into the room. "You couldn't keep your 'ands off her."

"I was just comforting her, Fleur," Harry quickly said and blushed when he knew that Fleur was teasing him.

"Gabi" Fleur said and strode toward her sister. She bent down and kissed her on the cheek. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you more, Gabrielle said and giggled. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Fleur on the cheek. "I love you, Fleur."

"I love you more, Gabrielle," Fleur said. "Come on, Gabi. Why don't I take you around the place and show you where you'll be sleeping."

"I want to stay and talk with, Arry, Fleur? Can I? Please?"

"If it's okay with, Arry, Gabrielle," Fleur said and she looked over to Harry. "Are you bothered about her being in the room with you? I can take her away if you want me to."

"I don't mind at all, Fleur," Harry said and Gabrielle beamed at him. "I like Gabrielle."

"I like Arry as well, Fleur," Gabrielle said and giggled softly.

"Don't we all?" Fleur said dreamily.

Harry swallowed hard when he saw that Fleur was gazing at him dreamily.

"Okay, I'll see you at dinner time, Arry and Gabi," she said and disappeared out of the room.

Harry looked over his shoulder and stared at the breathtakingly beauty. He felt a warm and funny feeling in his stomach as the door closed behind her.

"Why are you staring at my sister like zat, Arry?" Gabrielle asked as she curiously gazed up at Harry.

"I'm not!" Harry defended himself and stopped himself from blushing. "Do you want to take over?"

Gabrielle giggled when Harry playfully slapped her over the face with a wet cloth. She took the cloth from him, smiled and whipped it into his face. Harry thought her laugh was cute and innocent, it was something that lit up a darken room like this one.

"I'll tell Fleur that you hit me with the cloth, Harry," Gabrielle teasingly threatened him and smiled.

"Come on, let's get back to what I was doing," Harry said and snatched the cloth from Gabrielle's playful hands. "I need do this before Mrs. Weasley comes back."


	13. Summer at Grimmauld Place

-Chapter Thirteen-

-Summer at Grimmauld Place-

* * *

Another day had passed and it was getting close to his hearing date. His stomach clenched at the thought it, the sickness took a while to pass over and disappear. It was another warm day and the Cooling Charm was struggling to do anything now. It was another boring afternoon, Harry had at least four or five boring afternoons as there wasn't anything to do for him. There wasn't anything that he could do to take his mind off, Harry was sat down at the empty kitchen table and didn't know where everyone else was.

He never thought that he would be having a summer away from Number Four, Privet Drive. Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place was a strange, dirty and dangerous place where something always lurked in the shadows of the corners. Harry was always looking out for Kreacher; the treacherous House-Elf was a menace. He nearly killed him when he set ancient purple looking robes onto him that nearly strangled him.

Harry couldn't help it no matter how hard he tried to forget about it. He thought about the locket, it was permanently stuck in his mind. The boy wizard shook his head and knew that he was going crazy by thinking about the locket; it was a locket that he couldn't find anymore. Had Kreacher taken it somewhere else? Had Kreacher hidden it somewhere in the house?

Gabrielle hadn't shut up since she came here; question after question is all what came out of her mouth. He couldn't blame her; it was that sweet voice and smile that made him forget about her annoying habits. He had a haircut, but it was just a couple of inches though. His hair was slick and wet with sweat; the warmth hit him and made him feel all sweaty. He had just taken a shower about half an hour. The sickly sweat was back on him.

He had a lonely morning and afternoon; it was only day until he would going to the Ministry of Magic with Mr. Weasley. Harry was so nervous and frightened, his stomach churned and all he could eat was a light snack. It was the only thing that his stomach could manage, he had eaten toast early in the morning but that didn't go down too well with his stomach.

Today, Harry had only spoken to Neville, Gabrielle and Fleur in the past couple of hours. He hadn't seen Sirius all day and wondered where he had gone off to. The rest of the people were somewhere else, probably at work, Harry thought. He was jealous of those people, they didn't feel as locked up as he did, he couldn't go anywhere without someone beside him. He couldn't even go outside without an adult watching his every move.

The light snack was just a couple of chocolate digestive biscuits; it was enough for him to last until tea time. He swallowed hard as the kitchen door creaked and swung open. Nymphadora walked into the kitchen, her eyes were red and swollen and it looked like she hadn't been to sleep for a whole day. Her usually combed hair was a mess; it looked like a nasty wind had hit it.

"Afternoon, Harry," Nymphadora stammered and yawned loudly. Her hair was the colour of deep purple. "Have you had a good day?"

"Afternoon, Tonks," Harry said and he was eating another light snack. It crunched in his mouth as Nymphadora stumbled tiredly into the kitchen. "Are you drunk?"

Nymphadora wore an old and faded Hufflepuff jumper and a pair of plain pyjama bottoms.

"Have you been busy at the Ministry? Was it busy?"

"It's been an absolute nightmare, Harry!" Nymphadora exclaimed. Her eyes were tired and were nearly closing. "I've been at the Ministry since seven o'clock yesterday morning, Harry."

"What have you been doing all this time?" Harry asked and scratched his head.

"A group of wizards and witches are trying to explain to Fudge that it was actually Death Eater that attacked the school?"

"And he doesn't believe anybody, does he, Nymphadora?"

Nymphadora let out a sarcastic laugh,

"I see you've been getting close with Fleur and Gabrielle," Nymphadora teased him and grinned.

Harry shook his head and furiously blushed.

"Why does everyone keep saying that to me, Tonks? I'm just being polite and they need someone to be their friend. I don't understand the world today. Can't a boy be friends with two girls without wanting anything?"

He stopped himself from ranting and saw that teasing look that Nymphadora was giving him. A small smirk came onto face; it was small smile that neither Nymphadora nor anybody could see.

"Could you stop looking at me like that, Nymphadora?" Harry asked and purposely used her first name. "Did you see what I did there?"

"What have I said before, Harry? I've told you not to call me that, Harry?" Nymphadora thundered

The silence between the witch and wizard was broken by a young girl laughing and skipping through the house. A frown came onto Harry's face when he realised who was coming toward him.

"Can she not leave me alone for at least a couple of seconds?" Harry said to himself and the frown was still there.

Gabrielle came into the kitchen and she was wearing a pair of dark sunglasses. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun.

"Hello, Arry!" Gabrielle squealed and happily bounced to the kitchen table. "I got new shoes, Arry."

She smiled when she lifted her leg and planted her new and pink trainers onto the table in front of her. They had white laces and had horses painted on.

"Do you like them, Arry?" Gabrielle asked and pointed at her new trainers. "I bought them myself."

"They're very pretty, Gabrielle," Harry said and was pretty pleased that The Change hadn't made her act any older.

"Gabrielle, could you please take your shoes off the kitchen table, that is where we eat," Mrs. Weasley snapped as she walked into the kitchen, her tone was harsh and uncalled for. "We don't want your smelly feet on the place where we eat."

When she heard the harsh tone, Gabrielle flinched and felt deeply upset that someone would talk to her like that.

"Sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Gabrielle apologised and took her pink trainers off the table. Tears threatened to spill out of her eyes, she shook her head and tried to fight against them.

"Hey, don't cry, Gabrielle," Harry said in a soothing voice as he brushed his hand over his enclosed fists. "I know that Mrs. Weasley can hard to live with, you just have to ignore her."

Gabrielle leaned forward to whisper softly in his ear.

"I hate her, Arry!" Gabrielle said and hissed in his ear. "I don't like her at all! She's too bossy and I think that she doesn't like me because I'm a Veela?"

"That's nonsense," Harry said and shook his head. "Where did you get an idea like that from?"

Mrs. Weasley had walked from the other side to where Gabrielle and Harry were talking.

"I thought that I told you to clean your room after you got back from Diagon Alley, Gabrielle?" Mrs. Weasley said in a bored voice, it was like she had repeated herself before. "Did you not understand what I meant by that?"

"I'm talking to Arry, Mrs. Weasley," she replied back and glanced over her shoulder. Why don't you go and do something else instead of bothering me?"

Mrs. Weasley glared at the smallest Delacour and wondered how a small thing could be so bratty.

"Why? How dare you speak to me like that, Gabrielle?" Mrs. Weasley shouted at the small girl and placed her hands on hips. "If I was your mother, I would take you over my knee and spank you until the cows came home!"

"My mother doesn't believe in spanking, Mrs. Weasley," Gabrielle said and her eyes glared at Mrs. Weasley. "She doesn't like Veelas, Harry. I already told you

"You're quite right about, Gabrielle. I don't like Veelas because they are too snobby overly beautiful, skinny and they all have their heads stuck up their bottoms that they smell it coming," Mrs. Weasley spat in disgust and glared at the witch in front of her. "Your kind has been like this for centuries. Why don't you try and not to act surprised, Gabrielle?"

"Ow dare you say somezing like zat, Mrs. Weasley!" Gabrielle thundered and felt as if her own heritage had been insulted. "You have no right to say zat!"

When Harry saw that Gabrielle was slowly pulling out her wand, Harry stood up and his chair fell backwards. It crashed loudly and Harry was just in time to stand in front of Gabrielle. He pushed her wand down to the side of her body and carefully looked at her.

"Gabrielle, why don't you look at me, Gabrielle?"

Gabrielle's face softened when she looked into Harry's eyes and saw that they were pleading with him. She reached forward and grasped at his waist.

"I'm sorry that I'm getting angry, Arry," she apologised and looked saddened.

"You don't need to apologise," he said and looked over his shoulder. He stared at Mrs. Weasley and nodded his head. "I think it should be Mrs. Weasley who should do the apologising.

Mrs. Weasley was still struggling to understand why Harry was defending someone like Gabrielle. She felt confused and betrayed.

"What? Why should I do the apologising?" Mrs. Weasley said. "It's not my fault that she is a nasty Veela who will worm herself into anyone's hearts and beds."

"It is because I'm skinny and beautiful, and you're not, Mrs. Weasley," she said coldly and the words came out of her mouth without a hint of remorse. "Am I right, Mrs. Weasley?"

Mrs. Weasley goggled and had never been so insulted in her life, especially from a young girl who had been riding on her father's coattails.

"You little bitch!" Mrs. Weasley cursed and shouted at the smirking witch.

Harry was stuck in the middle of the two squabbling witches and felt as if he was about to go deaf. Gabrielle cursed in French.

"I would kindly like it you apologised to her," Harry said and pointed a wagging finger at Mrs. Weasley. "You started this!"

"Why are you sticking up for Gabrielle, Harry?"

"Because she's my friend, Mrs. Weasley," Harry spat back as his temper rose and rose. "Why don't you hate Veelas? It's not their fault that they were made this way.

Gabrielle wasn't upset but she was furious and angry with Mrs. Weasley.

"They prey on the unsuspecting and vulnerable men," Harry," Mrs. Weasley and her eyes burned into Gabrielle. "Fleur is exactly the same; I've seen the way that she prances around the place like she owns it."

"Is that what I am to you, Mrs. Weasley? Do you think that I am vulnerable?" Harry said and couldn't believe what Mrs. Weasley had just told him. "Do you think that I can't handle myself?"

"Not when Veelas are around, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said. "They make men act differently and stupid. You feel like they love until they throw you into the deepest ocean without a boat or a raft to swim on."

"I would nevair do that to, Arry, Mrs. Weasley. What kind of girl do you think I am?" Gabrielle said and she cried like the time that she found out her pet rabbit had died.

"Look at what you've done, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said and found himself getting furious and frustrated. "Why did you upset her?"

"Because, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said softly and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Because what, Mrs. Weasley? What has she done to deserve this abuse, Mrs. Weasley? Answer the question?" Harry said and his fiery voice suddenly came across the kitchen. "What has she done wrong?"

"It's because I hate Veelas, Harry," Mrs. Weasley snapped at Harry and Gabrielle. She made Gabrielle gasp. "She's always talking about her big her mansion is back home and how much the weather is better in the southern part of France. It makes me sick, you know that my family don't have much money to start with, and you've got the little princess talking about many holidays they go on, how many animals they've got. You have money as well, Harry, so you don't know what it's like to be in mine or my family's position.

"It's not our fault, is it, Mrs. Weasley? It's not my fault that my parents died and left me a vault with loads of gold. Is it my fault? Should I be blamed for what my parents left me? It's not Gabrielle's fault that she has been brought up the way she has, I don't think it's fair that you've been taking your frustration out on us.

Mrs. Weasley's face softened.

"I'm sorry if I've offended you, Mrs. Weasley," Fleur said and she had a brooding look on her face. She had a face like thunder. "Those words hurt me, Mrs. Weasley. Would you like it if someone said that to your daughter?"

An answer never came out of Mrs. Weasley's mouth; she turned around and stormed out of the kitchen. They heard Mrs. Weasley storm up the staircase and the sound of Mrs. Black screaming soon followed.

"Why is being like this, Arry?" Gabrielle asked tearfully.

"I don't know, Gabrielle," Harry said as Gabrielle softly placed her head on his chest. "Why don't you sit down and I'll make you a sandwich. Would you like a cheese and pickle sandwich, Gabrielle?"

"I would like zat, Arry," Gabrielle said and blushed. She felt a warm feeling every time she thought about Harry. "Thank you, Arry!"

Gabrielle smiled at his kindness, and a minute later, Harry placed a plate filled with two neatly cut sandwiches.

"Is there anything else that you would like to have, Gabrielle?"

"Could I please 'ave a glass of orange juice?" Gabrielle asked sweetly and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "If you don't mind

"Of course I don't, Gabrielle," he said and returned later with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

She bit into the sandwich and grunted softly. Her teeth sunk into the soft bread and she could taste the cheese and pickle. It was the nicest sandwich that she had ever tasted and that was because her celebrity crush had made it. She felt warm and funny as swallowed another piece of the sandwich. Slowly, a rosy scarlet colour spread over Gabrielle's cheeks and made her face take on an almost childlike appearance. She quickly turned her head away and was deeply embarrassed by her reaction.

"Do you like it, Gabrielle?" Harry asked as he took another bite of his biscuit.

Without talking, Gabrielle nodded her head and smiled. She silently chewed and licked her mouth.

"I'm glad that you've liked it, Gabrielle," Harry said as he sat down next to her. "It's the first time I've ever made a sandwich for a pretty girl like you."

She smiled warmly at him and drank the cold and refreshing orange juice. It was the first time a boy had made her anything that tasted so good. Gabrielle finished the sandwich with a smack of her mouth. She snatched one of Harry's chocolate biscuits before he could do anything.

"Hey!" Harry protested and smirked at her grinning face. "I hope you choke on it.

"Are you nervous about tomorrow, Arry?" Gabrielle asked Harry as she appreciatively placed her hands on his shoulders.

He nodded his head and knew that there wasn't any point in lying to anyone.

"I'll be praying for you, Arry," she said in a throaty whisper. She placed the empty glass onto the table. "I 'ope you're allowed back to 'ogwarts."

"Thank you!" he said and brushed his finger through her hair. Her hair was as soft as silk. "It means a lot to hear that coming from you, Gabrielle."

She beamed at him. It was his smile and eyes that she liked the most, it was a warm smile that made her heart and stomach flutter. Today, she felt beautiful and had nearly forgotten about going through The Change, she was comforted by Fleur who had already done it.

"What are your plans for the summer and after, Gabrielle? Are you going back to school?" Harry asked the small girl as she gazed into his eyes like he was a masterpiece hanging in art museum.

"After the summer, I go back to Beauxbatons," Gabrielle said and smiled fondly.

"Are you looking forward to it?"

She nodded her head and smiled. She yawned and stretched her t-shirt rose and exposed her flat stomach to Harry. Harry gazed and saw that there was a flash of sharp sliver.

"Does your mother know that you've got your belly button pierced?"

She shook her head and flashed a mischievous smirk.

"Do you have many friends at Beauxbatons, Gabrielle?"

"I ave friends zair who enjoy me for who I am, Arry," she said and smiled. "I zought zat I would 'ave no friends.

"I wouldn't think that, Gabrielle," Harry said and smoothed his hand across her cheek. Harry quickly took his hand away from her cheek when he heard the door opening.

Fleur stepped into the room to see that Harry and Gabrielle were sitting next to each other. She had a curious look on her face as she studied her sister's young face.

"Afternoon, Fleur," Harry said casually stood up. He took the empty plate from the table and brought it over to the full sink. Is there something that you wanted?"

"Mrs. Weasley said zat it would be best if you go upstairs and clean your rom with Neville and Ginny," Fleur said in a panting breath. "She's not in the best of moods, Arry."

"I know that, we both know, don't we, Gabrielle?" he asked Gabrielle as he walked out of the kitchen and quietly crept up the stairs.

* * *

"I don't know what I'm going to do about tomorrow, Neville? What if I never go back to Hogwarts?" Harry said to Neville and Ginny as his feet crashed nosily against the bedroom floor.

He walked backwards and forwards and his frustration was fuelled into his loud and booming footsteps. His face was flushed and his stomach felt hungry as it grumbled loudly.

"Are you feeling nervous about tomorrow, Harry?" Neville asked as he watched Harry slowly pace around the bedroom. "I wish I could come with you.

"I'm feeling nervous, Neville. Who wouldn't be?" Harry said _and nervously laughed. _

Ginny was sprawled out on Neville's bed and she was touching her stomach.

"How long is the tea going to be, Harry? It's nearly nine o'clock! I'm starving!" the youngest Weasley complained and whined like a sobbing infant. "I'm so hungry, Harry. Are they having another meeting?"

Harry sat down on his bed and shrugged his shoulders. Ginny's question made him think, he sat there with a thoughtful look and wondered who else would be in the meeting. He felt isolated and left out.

"I don't know," he said with a soft shrug of his shoulders. He yawned, it was getting late and Harry had to be up early tomorrow. "I think it might be an hour or two. Do you think that they are having another meeting, Ginny?"

Ginny nodded her head and yawned.

"I think they will be having another meeting tonight, Harry," Ginny said as Neville laid down next to her.

"Hey, Ginny," he said as something suddenly popped into his head. "Where are Fred and George?"

"You haven't heard, have you, Harry?" Ginny asked her friend and goggled at him.

"Heard what, Ginny?" Harry said and curiously gazed back at her. "What's happened to them?"

"They're thinking about starting their own shop in Diagon Alley," Ginny said. "They've moved into a flat above a vacant shop with their new girlfriends. Mum went mental when she first the news."

It took a long time before it finally sunk into him; Harry sat there and smiled warmly. Sweat dribbled from the nape of his neck, the cold and chilly evening air blew through the open window. It was another chilly evening, Harry and Neville had spent most of the day cleaning their bedroom together. It was frustrating and hard work, they cleaned, sprayed and fought against dust and grime for at least three hours.

Ginny quickly sat up and immediately saw that there was a smirk on Harry's face. A fiery and angry look came onto her face.

"You wouldn't know where they got the money from, would you, Harry?" Ginny asked and her tone was demanding. "You wouldn't want to get hit with one my Bat-Bogey-Hex, would you, Harry?"

Harry straightened himself up and felt threatened.

"Me, Ginny?" Harry said and quickly composed himself. "Why would I know where your brothers got the money from? They must've betted on something, Ginny! Didn't they say that they were gonna bet on a couple of Quidditch matches after they came back from Hogwarts? They must've hit the jackpot."

"I still don't believe you, Harry but I don't think I'm going to get an answer out of you," Ginny huffed and admitted defeat.

The door suddenly creaked open and Mrs. Weasley popped her head in between the gap of the bedroom door.

"The tea is ready, why don't you come and get it before it gets cold," Mrs. Weasley said and smiled at the three children.

"Finally!" Harry, Ginny and Neville said at the same time. Their stomach grumbled and their mouths watered as the smell drifted into the bedroom.

One by one, Harry, Neville and Ginny followed each other out of the bedroom.


	14. Ministry of Magic

-Chapter Fourteen-

-Ministry of Magic-

* * *

It was six o'clock in the morning when Harry finally arose to what sounded like rain thundering against the bedroom window. It was a heavy shower and Harry hoped it would be gone quickly. His heart hammered in his throat when he thought about his hearing; it was enough to make anyone feel nervous. The skies were dark and brooding, it was as if the skies would swallow anyone who dared to go outside. Harry's eyes were closed but he wasn't falling back to sleep, it was too nerve-wracking for him and the rain was always stopping him from falling back to the word of slumber.

The rain lashed and lashed against the window, it never stopped and the wind howled like a screaming banshee. He wanted to go back to his sleep but his mind wouldn't let him. He lay as still as statue, it felt as if the weight of the world was weighing heavily down on his shoulders. He opened his eyes and the whole bedroom was blurry and fuzzy, he reached for his glasses and put them on.

The room became clearer and clearer, it was something that he was getting sick of seeing. He glanced to the right of him, Neville was fast asleep, he grunted with his mouth wide open. Harry wished he was like Neville, he hadn't a thing to worry about and it showed the way he slept peacefully as the rain crashed loudly against the window. Harry quietly climbed out of the bed; the rusted bedsprings creaked and twanged loudly. Harry was surprised that Neville wasn't awakened by the shuddering bed.

He saw that Mrs. Weasley had washed, ironed and had placed his clothes on the foot of the bed. Harry stripped his Quidditch pyjamas away from his body and quickly got dressed in his casual clothes. He pondered if he should go downstairs or wait for a while. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders; Harry walked out of the bedroom and closed the door.

Walking quietly down each step, Harry walked down the staircase and moodily walked past the heads of the mounted House-Elfs. He felt those dead and cold eyes gazing at his bobbin head. Harry wondered why Sirius would keep those up there; maybe he couldn't take the down as they might have been charmed with a Permanent Sticking Charm. He reached the kitchen and walked into it. The noise of the frying pan soon greeted him.

He was surprised to find that he wasn't the only person who was up at this time in the morning. He saw that Sirius and Professor Lupin were talking in the furthest corner of the kitchen; it looked as if they didn't want to be disturbed. Mrs. Weasley wore a dressing gown that that was the colour of deep purple and Mrs Weasley was wearing a business suit.

Harry glanced upwards and could hear the floorboards creaking above. The eggs fried in the frying pan as Mrs. Weasley stood there and watched the stove. His stomach grumbled and he knew that he desperately wanted something to eat. He hadn't eaten since about nine o'clock and the light dinner wasn't enough to fill him.

"Morning, Harry," Mr. Weasley greeted Harry as he took his head away from the morning newspaper. "Did you sleep well?"

"It was okay, I suppose, Harry said and yawned loudly. He furiously rubbed his red eyes as they watered. "I couldn't go back to sleep because of the rain lashing against my window. Neville's out for the count, I'm still surprised that he's still sleeping."

"That does sound like Neville, Harry," Mr. Weasley said and chuckled. "That could be describing anyone of my sons."

The door opened and Nymphadora walked into the kitchen. She wore a hooded top and a pair of trackies. She looked fully awake; she walked passed Harry and patted him on the shoulder.

"I didn't take you as an early riser, Harry," Nymphadora said and her hair was the colour of dyed blonde. "Morning, Harry!"

"Morning, Tonks," he said and watched as she quickly walked over to where Sirius and Professor Lupin were sitting down. She pulled up a chair and joined in the conversation.

Harry wondered if he could hear a part of the conversation and he pretended to be staring in the other direction. Professor Lupin glanced up at Harry and looked back to Nymphadora and Sirius.

"What were you saying about Fudge, Tonks?" Professor Lupin asked the witch.

"What? Oh, yeah, that's what we're talking about! Nymphadora stupidly said and laughed. "I think we need to be a bit more careful because he's asking Shacklebolt and me weird questions about the whereabouts of Harry Potter and what we do in our spare time."

"Really?" Professor Lupin muttered and smoothed a hand through his combed hair. "I don't know what we're going to do; I think you and Kingsley are just going to have to answer his questions and try to put him off guard.

"Morning, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said and her hair was all frazzled. "Are you ready for some breakfast? You're going to need all your strength for today.

"What are you making, Mrs. Weasley?" Harry asked tiredly and his eyes were half-open.

"What would you like for your breakfast, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked and didn't even look knackered. "Porridge? Muffins? Kippers? Bacon and eggs? Toast?"

"I think I'll just have toast," he said and he didn't think that he could eat anything else. "I don't want to overload my stomach before the hearing."

"You have nothing to worry about, Harry because it'll be all over soon," Mr. Weasley said brightly and reassuringly. "You shouldn't be nervous, Harry because in a few hours' time you'll be cleared and in September you'll be riding the Hogwarts Express with Ginny and Neville. "The hearing's in courtroom ten and Amelia Bones is there. She's head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and she'll the one who'll be questioning you."

"Amelia Bones is okay, Harry," Nymphadora said and took a seat next to Harry. "She's fair and she'll hear you out."

"Is she Susan Bones' aunt or mother, Tonks?"

"Aunt, Harry," Nymphadora said and didn't even know that her elbow was resting in the butter dish. "She's a decent person; she's not one of those snobby Ministry workers."

Quietly, Harry supressed a soft giggle. Mr. Weasley was wearing a jumper and a pair of faded jeans. Harry had never seen Mr. Weasley wearing normal clothes and Mr. Weasley slid his arms into a leather jacket.

"How are we getting to the Ministry of Magic, Mr. Weasley? Harry asked Mr. Weasley as his teeth sunk into the toast.

He said nothing after that and sunk into his teeth into the white toast, the toast felt rubbery or like he was munching on a roll of carpet. It was the worst toast that he had ever tasted and he bitterly swallowed.

"We're going through the visitor's entrance, it's been almost six years since I last used it," Mr. Weasley said and looked excited about it. His eyes were blazing with excitement. "We're going by train, Harry. Can you believe it?"

Harry stared up and had never seen Mr. Weasley look so excited.

"When are we leaving?"

"Twenty minutes," Mr. Weasley said and drank his coffee. "I think that should give you a enough time to brush your teeth and get ready."

* * *

It was actually thirty minutes and Harry and Mr. Weasley were walking outside. Harry wondered why Mr. Weasley was keeping his hand inside his jacket as they walked out in the cool air. Nodding his head, Harry realised that Mr. Weasley must clenching his hand around his wand. He turned his head and looked around, Harry was pretty pleased to see that the rundown neighboured were almost deserted and only a cat screeching broke the silence.

"How long is until the station, Mr. Weasley?"

"It's just down the road, Harry," Mr. Weasley said and pointed at the archway leading to a set of stairs that were going underground.

Harry and Mr. Weasley thundered down the stairs and reached the small and neglected underground station. As soon as they hit the bottom of the step, Harry and Mr. Weasley found that the platform was already full of early risers. They had the same look of everyone who wanted to be snuggled up in bed with a loved one. They passed the broken automatic machines and approached the small kiosk station. Harry walked forward and saw that a pretty and busty blonde-headed girl who was smiling warmly at him. He blushed and then turned to look at Mr. Weasley.

"You buy the tickets, Harry. I don't think I've got the hang of Muggle money," Mr. Weasley whispered into Harry's ear as the boy pulled out a wallet.

Harry grinned and remembered Mr. Weasley at the Quidditch World Cup. Harry paid for two tickets and couldn't believe how steep the prices are. They walked away and stood at the edge of the platform. Harry's shoulders roughly bumped into a man who was leaning against a pillar and reading a newspaper. Harry saw the sports page and also saw that Sunderland had thrashed Newcastle United.

"Can you see the train coming, Harry?" Mr. Weasley said excitingly and shouted a little too loudly.

"I can see that, Mr. Weasley," Harry said as he winced and looked around. He caught the eyes of so many people**. **"You need to act normal, Mr. Weasley. I think everyone's going to wonder why you're not wearing a straightjacket."

The train came to a slow stop as it jerked and creaked loudly. The doors were flung open with a struggle. Harry and Mr. Weasley walked quickly onto the train and found a seat. The train moved out of the station and Harry was surprised that they found a seat.

"How many stops do we have to go through before we get there?"

"I think it's about six or seven stops, Harry," Mr. Weasley said and gazed out of the window of the train.

The train hurtled forward and the neglected area slowly faded into the background. Harry's stomach was betraying, it felt as if the toast didn't agree with him and he wanted to be sick. He dug into his pocket, popped a Strawberry Mentos out of packet and put it into his mouth. The train went through at least eight stops before Mr. Weasley tapped him on the arm.

"I think this is our stop, Harry," Mr. Weasley said and stood up. He held onto the pole as the train went around a curve. It slowly stopped and pulled into a healthy looking station.

They exited the station rather quickly and hurried up the stairs. They broke onto the bustling street and saw the weary look on all the tired faces.

"Where do we go?"

"Over there," Mr. Weasley said and pointed to a telephone box that was out of order.

"We have to go into that telephone box, Mr. Weasley?" Harry said and followed across the road. "Are you sure?"

They slowly eased into the broken telephone box and Harry roughly bumped into Mr. Weasley's shoulders. Harry grunted as he squeezed himself into the telephone box, it was like an airless chamber.

"Mr. Weasley?" Harry said nervously and looked at the old and dusty telephone box. "What are we doing in here? I don't think anybody used this in years."

He nervously glanced around at the broken glass panels.

"What are you talking about, Harry?" Mr. Weasley said as his fingers began to press against the dial. "This is the visitor's entrance to the Ministry of Magic."

"Are you? It doesn't look very welcome, Mr. Weasley," Harry said as Mr. Weasley laughed.

"How do we get to the Ministry of Magic from here?"

"Watch and learn, Harry?" Mr. Weasley said and began dialling.

Harry anxiously watched as the dial whirred and smoothly moved back into place, and there was a whispering, cool female voice echoing inside the telephone and Harry thought that the people outside would be able to hear it.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business, speak very clearly."

"Hello," Mr. Weasley said nervously as held the telephone's receiver to his face, with a little help from Harry. "My name is Arthur Weasley, Misuse of Muggle Artefacts. I'm here to escort Harry Potter who has been asked to attend a disciplinary hearing.

"Thank you," the cool female said and her voice once again echoed in the suffocating telephone box. "Could all visitors, please take a badge and attach it to the front of your clothes."

Harry stood there and listened to a loud and rattling click. The teenage wizard looked forward and saw something quickly slide out of the metal chute; it came out of the place where change was normally returned. He nervously picked it up: it was a square sliver badge with Harry Potter, Disciplinary Hearing on it. He pinned it to the front of his T-shirt as the female voice echoed throughout the chamber.

"All visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

Harry touched the glass panel of the telephone and could feel the floor shuddering violently. It moved and Harry couldn't believe that they were sinking into the swallowing ground. The quivering wizard watched nervously as the dirty looking pavement seemed to rise up past the broken glass windows of the telephone until creeping darkness. Harry could see nothing in front of him, it was dark, and the only thing that she could hear was the dull and echoing grinding noise as the telephone box slowly made its way down to the bottom of the earth. He thought it would never end, but Harry was wrong, a golden and shimmering light suddenly illuminated his and began to rise up to his legs and stomach.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day," the female voice said as her cool voice echoed throughout the telephone box for the last time.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, Harry," Mr. Weasley said to Harry.

The door of the telephone box clattered open and Mr. Weasley stepped out of first. Harry followed and his mouth was wide open when he saw what he was looking at. They were standing still at the end of a very stretched and wonderful looking hall with a beautiful polished dark blue floor. Dark skies were above them but it was decorated with gleaming and glimmering golden symbols that kept moving and changing, it was something that Harry had never seen before and it surprised. Harry stood and looked around. He thought his head was spinning around as he gazed down the long and enormous looking lobby. He had never seen anything like it. It was so amazing and it was like the time that he had seen Hogwarts for the first time. His eyes were wide and bulging when he saw the paper aeroplanes zooming across the dark skies.

Harry followed Mr. Weasley and saw that he was looking at the largest golden statues that he had ever seen in his life. It was enormously tall; it nearly reached the top of the never-ending ceiling. It was a strange looking group of glimmering golden statutes, they were large and were stood in the middle of a circular pool that was filled with coins. He saw that the tallest of them was a handsome and noble looking wizard with his wand outstretched and pointing straight up in the air. Surrounding him, there was a strikingly beautiful witch, a scary looking centaur, a goblin and a House-Elf. Harry thought it was strange that the last three were all looking adorningly up at the witch and wizard. Harry scoffed and knew that it would never happen in real life. Glittering jets of water were flying from the ends of their wands, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat and each of the House Elf's ears.

"Mr. Weasley, do you honestly think that all those creatures would look up to wizards and witches like that?"

Mr. Weasley said nothing and pretended to not have heard the babbling wizard.

"I think we need to go over here, Harry," Mr. Weasley said and pointed toward a large and wooden desk. They walked forward until they came across the wooden desk, a tall wizard with broad shoulders sat behind it. He looked bored out of his mind and had a permanent scowl on his face.

"What do you want, Mr. Weasley?" the man grunted, his tone was low and sounded rough like he had a cold or something.

"I'm escorting a visitor," Mr. Weasley said and gestured towards Harry.

"Could you please step over here," the wizard said rudely and motioned with his finger.

Harry nodded his head and walked closer to the enormous security guard and felt intimidated. He held a long golden rod; it was thin and flexible as a television antenna. Harry gazed at it as the wizard passed it up and down Harry's front and back. It made whirring noise.

"You're not carrying anything metal, but could I please have your wand," the security wizard at Harry and put the down the golden instrument. He held out his hand and waited for Harry's hand. "Now!"

"Give him a chance to get it out of his pocket," Mr. Weasley said and furiously rolled his eyes.

Harry reached into his back pocket and produced his wand. His wand was suddenly dropped it onto a strange brass instrument, it looked like a set of scales that you would find in sweet shop. It began to shake and tremble. A narrow strip of parchment came quickly speeding out of the slit at the base of scales. The security guard tore the paper off and read the writing on it.

"Is your wand eleven inches and has a phoenix-feather core and been in use for four years? Is that correct?"

"That's correct," Harry said nervously and panted heavily.

"I will keep this," the wizard said and impaled the slip of parchment on a small brass spike. "You'll get the wand back after you finished the hearing.

"That's fine with me," Harry said.

"You're Harry Potter!" he exclaimed and gazed at the famous scar.

"What gave it away? Was it the badge or the scar?" Mr. Weasley said sarcastically and dragged Harry away from the gazing wizard. "Come on, Harry. We need to get going, we don't have time to stand here and talk to gawping fools!"

They stood in front of the lift and the golden grills flung open and the small lift was empty. Harry was pleased and sighed deeply as he and Mr. Weasley stepped into the lift. The grills slammed shut and the lift lurched downwards like a rollercoaster teetering on the edge of a high drop.

"Department of Mysteries," said the familiar cool female voice from the telephone box and said nothing else.

Harry gazed down the long corridor that seemed familiar. Where had he seen it before? Was it in a dream? Was this the place that Lord Voldemort was looking for? His scar prickled and it felt as if Lord Voldemort was right next to him. They stepped onto the long corridor and thought that was someone whispering in his ear.

"Are you okay, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked the trembling boy and slapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm fine, Mr. Weasley," he said nervously as he stared at the strangely familiar door.

"You're not nervous, are you, Harry?" Mr. Weasley asked the gates clattered to a close.

"Just a little bit, Mr. Weasley," Harry said as the lift lurched downwards and the contents of his stomach lurched upwards. They glanced backwards and saw that the lift was shooting back up.

The walls were bare and colourless; there were no windows and no doors apart from a mysterious plain black one at the very end of the corridor. Harry thought he and Mr. Weasley were going to crash or go straight through it; Mr Weasley grabbed him by the arm and sharply dragged him to the left. They moved quickly and there was an opening leading to a flight of steps that lead downwards.

"We need to go down here, Harry," Mr. Weasley said and panted heavily as they raced down the stairs.

Harry and Mr. Weasley reached the bottom of the spiralling staircase and hurried along another long and wide corridor that seemed to go on forever and forever. Harry gasped and panted, his heart was nearly exploding out of his chest.

"It's in Courtroom Ten," Mr. Weasley said with a haunted look on his face and shook his head. "It has been used in years, I don't even know when the last time it was used. What is Fudge thinking?"

Mr. Weasley slowed down as they came across an enormous door with a gleaming sliver knocker.

"You go inside, Harry," Mr. Weasley urged and pointed at the door.

"What? Do you mean that you're not coming with me?" Harry said and sounded shocked. "They're

"I can't, Harry. I'm not allowed because I'm not authorised," Mr. Weasley said and pointed at the door. "Go on! You don't want to make them wait for you."

Harry nodded his head and gripped the golden door handle, he twisted it and it creaked around. The door opened and Harry stepped into the quiet courtroom. His footsteps boomed. He looked up and felt as if he could collapse. He was alone and needed someone to get him through this.


	15. The Wrath of Cornelius Oswald Fudge

-Chapter Fifteen-

-The Wrath of Cornelius Oswald Fudge-

* * *

A cold feeling shuddered down Harry's back when he found himself in a strangely familiar place. He walked and his footsteps echoed throughout the enormous and quiet dungeon, it was something that reminded of Professor Snape's classroom back at Hogwarts and he knew that his hope was slowly fading away from his grasp. His heart hammered, he wanted the floor to swallow him whole and take him somewhere else. He nervously rubbed his hands and carried on walking forward. He couldn't believe that he was standing in the Courtroom Ten; it was she had seen it through Professor Dumbledore's Pensive and watched the Lestrange's get sentenced to life in Azkaban.

He saw the chair in the middle of the courtroom and shuddered. It was an uncomfortable looking chair; it was a tall chair that had long and black rattling chains curling around it. The walls were large and made of dark stone that looked it had been scratched many times, each wall was dimly illuminated by flickering torches. There were empty benches that grew tall on either side of her, but ahead, Harry looked at the highest bench in the room and saw that many of the witches and wizards were nothing more than a shadowy figure. He knew that he had been talking in quiet and low voices; there wasn't a single whisper as the heavy and enormous door swung closed behind the walking Harry. A horrifying silence hung in the room as Harry looked around and hoped that someone would speak.

The silence was broken as cold, high-pitch sneer rang across the courtroom and made Harry gaze upwards. He knew that his hope of escaping was slowly fading away; it had disappeared as soon the door had closed on him.

"Hello," Harry said nervously, a single cough broke the uneasiness. "I'm here for the hearing."

"I see you finally made it, Harry Potter," Cornelius Fudge sneered at Harry. He was sat behind a large bench that was the tallest of them all. "I thought you were running a little bit late, I see you're pretty bad with your timekeeping skills."

Harry scowled at Cornelius Fudge.

"I got lost," Harry stammered nervously when he felt all the eyes were staring at him. "I'm here, isn't that okay?"

Cornelius Fudge sat there and peered down at Harry, he scowled at the menace of a wizard.

"You can sit down there, Harry!" Cornelius Fudge grunted and pointed at the chair in the middle of the Courtroom Ten. "Go on! We haven't got all day, Mr. Potter. You do know that I don't just have you to sentence."

Harry shifted nervously and absentmindedly gazed to the chair in the centre of the room, the arms of which were covered in chains and Harry had also seen those chains spring to life and trap whoever sat between them. His never-ending footsteps boomed loudly as he walked across the polished dark wood floor. He sat down and sighed deeply, he sat nervously on the edge of the chair and the chains clinked and clanked threateningly, Harry was surprised and confused when they didn't latch around him.

He felt rather nervous and there was a sickly feeling knotting tightly in his stomach. Titling her head, Harry looked up at the people seated at the bench above and felt nervous as they all looked down at him like he was a masterpiece in a famous art museum. Scanning the room, Harry sat that there about fifty of them, their coloured robes was all he could see and they were all wearing plum-coloured robes with a large and gleaming sliver W on the left-hand side of the chest. Their noses and sniffed and some coughed, they were all staring down their noses at him like he was some homeless man that they would pass on the street.

Harry craned his neck and looked further upwards and his eyes rested on the very middle. In the front row, Cornelius Fudge, the Minster for Magic. Cornelius Fudge was a haggard and overweight man who had an enormous stomach that was about the size of a small island. He wore his disgusting green lime bowler hat; he wore a sneering smile that Harry had seen before. A broad and tall square-jawed witch with wispy grey hair, she sat on Fudge's left and looked as terrifying as Professor McGonagall.

Harry gazed at the staring wizard that was on Fudge's right, it was a tall and broad wizard, but Harry couldn't see much as she was sitting so far back on the tall bench that his face was shrouded by the shadows and darkness. He saw the look of hate in his eyes and swallowed hard.

"We're all accounted for," Cornelius Fudge quickly said and called down the row of benches. "The accused has finally arrived, a minute late or less, let us begin. Are you ready to begin or do you need more time to prepare your statement?"

"I've been ready since I came here, Minster Fudge," Harry said in a keen voice. He looked up and he saw Ron's brother was there. Percy Weasley was sitting at the very end of the front bench and looked more of an arrogant and self-absorbed man than before. Harry looked at Percy and wondered if he would acknowledge him. He was surprised when Percy smiled at him and gave him a knowing look. Harry saw that Percy's eyes were staring at the parchment and an inked feather quill was tightly gripped in his hand. "Why don't you begin?"

"This is the disciplinary hearing of twenty second of August," Cornelius Fudge said in a booming voice and Percy immediately began scribbling. "into the offenses committed under the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery and the International Statute of Secrecy by Harry James Potter, resident at Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minster for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Fiendhart Alabama Hardbroom, Senior Undersecretary to the Minster."

"Witness for the Defence is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," Professor Dumbledore said loudly and appeared out of the growing shadows.

Harry gasped when he heard Professor Dumbledore's voice come out of nowhere. It was like Professor Dumbledore had been waiting for the right moment to make his presence known. He turned his head sharply around and it was the first time that had seen Professor Dumbledore in a whole month. He had ignored his letters and had refused to come and see him at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.

Cornelius Fudge gazed at Professor Dumbledore and muttered something under his shuddering breath. Harry felt a horrible sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach when he gazed at Professor Dumbledore and felt hurt when he refused to look or acknowledge him. Harry muttered something and turned his head back around to stare at Cornelius Fudge.

"I see you're a few minutes late, Dumbledore," Cornelius Fudge taunted Professor Fudge with a mischievous grin that spread across his chubby face. "Any later we would've made Harry Potter guilty without trial."

"I'm only a few minutes late, Cornelius," Professor Dumbledore said softly, his voice was loud and booming. He saw and watched Cornelius tremble from head to toe. "Do you remember the time when you late to a meeting and you had the nerve to say that you slept in? But, I think we all know where you were that night."

Harry supressed a snigger and kept his hands on the arm of the chair. The binds threatened him and gently brushed past his pale knuckles.

"I think you need a seat, Dumbledore," Cornelius Fudge hissed like a crackling fire. "Weasley, get Professor Dumbledore a seat. Now!"

"Not at all, Cornelius Fudge," Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly and stood to the right side of Harry. "I think that I will stand for this hearing."

"I see," Cornelius Fudge said and coughed nervously. He shuffled his handwritten notes and gazed back at Harry's face. "Shall we get started? I think we all want to know what Harry Potter has been up to."

Cornelius Fudge had a permanent sneer on his face and it was like it wouldn't go away. He sat there, a bead sweat of sweat dripped from his brow and he quickly wiped it away with the palm of his hand. He took a parchment from the tottering pile in front of him and began reading from it.

"We all must know that charges against the accused are as follows: That he did knowingly, deliberately and in full awareness of the illegality of his actions, having received a previous written warning from the Ministry of Magic on a similar charge and has produce a Patronus Charm in a Muggle-inhabited area, in the presence of a Muggle, on the second of August at twenty-three minutes past nine, which constitutes an offence under Paragraph C of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, and also under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy."

Harry sat there and was still as a posing statute. He felt the colour drain from his face and it left a pale and deathly looking complexion.

"Are you Harry James Potter, currently living at Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey?" Cornelius Fudge said and he looked over the pile of parchments.

"I am," Harry said and quickly nodded his head. "That's me."

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for using illegal magic three years ago, did you not?" Cornelius Fudge boomed.

"Yes, but that wasn't my fault…" Harry protested and realised that he wouldn't be get a word in.  
"Did you or did you not conjure a Patronus on the night of the second of August?" Cornelius Fudge asked and smiled sickly at Harry."

"I'm not denying that I didn't," Harry said but knew that there was no point in arguing with Cornelius Fudge.

"And you did that knowing that you aren't permitted to use magic outside school while you're under the age of seventeen," Cornelius Fudge said and smirked.

"I know that, but I only did it because…"

"You did and knew that you were in an area full of Muggles?"

"I knew that!" Harry shouted and was getting frustrated as Cornelius Fudge.

"And you were fully aware that you were in the close proximity to a Muggle?"

"You're making it sound like I had no choice! There's a reason that I had to produce a Patronus!"

"Did you produce a fully-fledged Patronus?" Amelia Bones asked curiously and smiled at the puzzled look that was on Harry's face. "Did your Patronus have a form or shape of an animal?"

"Yes!" Harry said and nodded his head when Amelia Bones gazed down at Harry. He was surprised when people started gasping around the courtroom. "It was a stag and it has always been a stag."

"How long have you been doing this, Mr. Potter?" Amelia Bones said and was pretty impressed with him."

"Who actually cares if he can produce a Patronus? I know more than a few people who can produce a Patronus!"

Amelia Bones sat there and shrugged her shoulders. She simply shook her head and couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"How many do you know that can produce a Patronus Charm at that age, Cornelius? I couldn't do until I was twenty!" Amelia Bones said and many people grunted.

"You do know that you used a Patronus in front of a Muggle, Mr. Potter? Why would you do something like that?" Cornelius Fudge asked and raised his eyebrows. "Do you know how serious this charge is?"

"Why did you think I used a Patronus Charm, Minster Fudge? Harry asked sarcastically. "I used it to stop the Dementors from kissing me and my cousin. Why would someone use a Patronus Charm? Do you think that is a spell that I use on a daily basis? I used it to repel the Dementors."

"What do you mean, Dementors?" Amelia Bones asked after a moment had passed, her eyebrows rose until they nearly disappeared under her black Wizengamot HAT. "Are you saying that Dementors were in Little Whinging?"

Harry nodded his head.

"How many were they, Mr. Potter?"

"I was confronted by two unhooded Dementors down that alleyway and they went for me and my cousin! What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to just stand there and let them kiss me?"

Cornelius Fudge leaned forward and laughed loudly. He looked around and saw that his fellow wizards and witches were also laughing.

"Why are you laughing, Cornelius," Professor Dumbledore said and felt it was very rude and disrespectful.

"Do you know why I'm laughing, Professor Dumbledore? Do you expect us to believe this, Mr. Potter?" Cornelius Fudge said loudly and grinned mischievously. He looked around at Wizengamot as if he wanted to everyone to listen to what he was saying. "Do you honestly think that we are all bumbling fools?"

"What are you implying, Minster Fudge?" Amelia Bones said and curiously gazed across at him.

"What would two Dementors be doing in Little Whinging and they happen to come across a wizard with a wand? Cornelius Fudge said and his voice echoed through Courtroom Ten. "Dementors are supposed to be guarding Azkaban. What do you think they were doing there?"

"What happens if they were sent from someone inside the Ministry?" Professor Dumbledore mused and said something that he wasn't afraid to.

Silence hung in Courtroom Ten and nobody dared speak.

"You must know that Lord Voldemort is back, Cornelius? I beg of you, Professor Dumbledore pleaded with Cornelius Fudge.

"He's not back, Professor Dumbledore!" Cornelius Fudge hissed and ignored Professor Dumbledore by looking straight at Harry.

A gruff and dark laugh came from the mysterious looking shadows. The tall and broad wizard leaned forward and his sneering smile was there for everyone to see. He had a brooding expression etched permanently onto his face. He looked like his face had been flattened with a steamroller. His dirty blonde hair hung in front of his face like and swished left and right like an unveiling curtain. Harry thought that he looked like malnourished rodent with buck teeth.

"Have I heard right, Professor Dumbledore?" a cold voice sneered as he gazed at Professor Dumbledore. "Are you saying that someone from the Ministry has sent Dementors to Little Whinging?"

Professor Dumbledore looked up and saw the familiar face of Fiendhart Hardbroom. Fiendhart Hardbroom flashed a devilish smile in Harry's direction.

"What did you think I said, Fiendhart? I remember you, you were at Hogwarts," Professor Dumbledore said and nearly spat in disgust. "I see you haven't changed in the slightest. You were in Slytherin and the Head Boy."

Fiendhart Broom nodded his head curtly.

"I was a great Head Boy, wasn't I? Horace Slughorn said I was a wonderful student," he said in a sarcastic tone, his grin was there and it was most sneering grin that Harry had ever seen.

"I thought you were a great student when you weren't taunting students from Gryffindor or Muggle-Borns!"

"I thought that you knew, Professor Dumbledore," Fiendhart Hardbroom said and giggled like a little schoolgirl.

"Know what, Fiendhart Hardbroom?"

"We all know that Gryffindors are nothing but lying, cheating and useless students who need to copy of the classmates in order to get a decent school grade.

"Settle down, Fiendhart!" Cornelius sternly ordered his friend and nodded curtly. "We're not here to listen to your propaganda."

"Why do you have a problem with Harry Potter, Cornelius Fudge?"

"Harry Potter is nothing more than a troublemaker who has defied the rules at Hogwarts and hasn't been expelled or punished."

"Why are you mentioning what he does at Hogwarts, Cornelius?" Professor Dumbledore said and smiled when he glanced around at all the other faces. "The Ministry cannot throw someone out of Hogwarts and that's up to the headmaster himself. What he does at Hogwarts, the consequences will be dealt by his teachers or headmaster. You don't have control over Hogwarts, Cornelius Fudge and you never will!"

"We don't have control for now!" Cornelius Fudge spat threateningly and Professor Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

"Is the Ministry trying to take over Hogwarts?"

Cornelius Fudge simply shrugged his shoulders and gave Professor Dumbledore a knowing look as if he knew what he was talking about.

"Do we have a witness apart from Harry Potter? His cousin is pointless; we all know that Muggles can't see Dementors," Cornelius Fudge said and sniggered.

Professor Dumbledore nodded his head and could feel the uneasiness wrapped around him.

"I have a witness for Harry James Potter," Professor Dumbledore said and Cornelius Fudge whispered and felt mortified. "She's standing outside, Cornelius Fudge! Can I go and bring her here?"

"Who is it? Go and get her then!" What are you doing standing around, Professor Dumbledore? I haven't got all day!" Cornelius Fudge roared and Professor Dumbledore quickly disappeared without saying anything else.

A second later, a shaking Mrs. Figg followed Professor Dumbledore into the courtroom. She wore a pink bathroom robe and slippers, Harry saw his hope slipping away from and there wasn't anything he could do now. His fate had been sealed. She stood to the side of Harry.

"Could you tell the courtroom who you are and what you are doing?"

Mrs. Figg said nothing. She leaned against Harry's chair; it was more like a throne and watched as the binds slowly moved as if they were threatening her.

"Could you please state your full name because I haven't got a clue who you are," Cornelius Fudge said.

"My name is Arabella Doreen Figg," Mrs. Figg said in her whispering voice.

"Who are you and where do you live?"

"I am currently resident of Little Whinging, I live close to Harry Potter," Mrs. Figg and nervously gazed around the room.

"Is that so?" Amelia Bones pondered. "We have no record of any witch or wizard living in Little Whinging, other than Harry Potter. "Who are you?"

"I'm a Squib," Mrs. Figg said and she could hear a faint tutting sound. "So I don't think you would have me registered, would you?"

"You're a Squib, Mrs. Figg?" Fudge said and eyed her rather closely. His eyes were full of disgust. "I will have to check that as soon as this court case is finished. You will leave details of your parents with my assistant, Percy Weasley. Can I ask you a question? Can Squibs see Dementors or are they like Muggles?"

"Of course we can see Dementors!" she snapped, her voice cracked and faded.

"Why don't you describe what you were doing that night and when you saw the Dementors? Enlighten us; I want to finish the case as quickly as possible!"

"It was a warm summer's evening and I was just walking to the shop to get some canned foods for my starving cats. I saw Harry Potter and Dudley, the Dementors; they were wearing big and black cloaks that flapped in the wind. They ran toward him!" she said and pointed her shaking finger at Harry.

"What are you talking about, Mrs. Figg? Dementors don't run, they glide like a ghostly figure," Cornelius Fudge said and snorted bitterly. "You mentioned that Dementors were wearing big and black cloaks. Is there anything else you would like to tell us?"

Harry sighed softly and knew that his chance of winning had escaped out of the door and disappeared.

"I remember the happiness disappearing away from me like I was surrounded by unwelcoming death," Mrs. Figg breathed and whispered softly throughout the courtroom. "It was cold, colder than a wintry night and I thought I wouldn't be happy anymore."

"What happened?" Cornelius Fudge.

"The Dementors were unhooded and I saw the most foul and disgusting thing that I had ever seen," she said and her whispering voice had suddenly gotten louder. "They swooped in and went for Harry and Dudley, they were trying to kiss him and I could see his soul slowly coming out of his mouth. He used his wand and a slivery wispy thing came out of and ran down the alleyway."

Her voice finally faded into nothing but a soft whisper. A small and soft shudder came out of Harry's mouth, and he saw everyone else shifting uncomfortably. Amelia Bones' sat there and a small smirk came to her face that nobody else could see.

"I think we're ready to make a decision, Minster Fudge," Amelia Bones said and winked at Harry. "Could people raise their hands if they are in favour of clearing the witness of all charges?" Amelia Bones said and her booming voice filled the courtroom.

Harry felt his head ache with the constant pounding as he saw the hands immediately shoot up. Amelia Bones slowly began raising her hand.

"All those in favour of conviction," Amelia Bones said with a smile and only Cornelius Fudge and Fiendhart raised their hands into the air. "I think we have made a decision, Minster Fudge."

"Harry Potter has been cleared off all charges," Cornelius Fudge said and furiously banged his gavel. "This case has been dismissed."

Harry leaned back and felt relief washing over him. The blinds had stopped moving and lay there as if they had died. He breathed, it was over and Harry couldn't believe how quick it took and couldn't thank Mrs. Figg and Professor Dumbledore an enough. He gazed up at the glaring face of Cornelius Fudge; it was the look of hate and failure. Harry wiped the sweat from his brow and saw Cornelius Fudge muttering something to Fiendhart Hardbrroom.


End file.
